


Twenty Million Things

by FaunaFauna



Category: Tetsuwan Atom | Astro Boy
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-11-17 22:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11278455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaunaFauna/pseuds/FaunaFauna
Summary: Post-2003 series. Dr. Tenma is assigned a case worker as he prepares to move back into society. Struggling to come to terms with his inner demons, Tenma attempts to learn to trust humans, Astro, and himself again. (Originally posted on FF.net from 2014 on.)





	1. Notoriety

"Are you ready for this, Tenma?"

The doctor nodded quietly from his seat in the consultation room. Tawashi paced along the side of the room, arms folded behind his back, giving the occasional analytic glare. Both men wanted to be anywhere but that close to each other.

"The question is, are _we_ ready for this?" Tawashi strolled over to the table that Tenma was seated at, and slammed down one wide hand, holding his balance in a stoop over the doctor. "It's been four months and we still have no idea what you're capable of. I can't believe we're even letting you start rehab!"

"You are welcome to cancel it if you enjoy my company that much," Tenma said with a grin as smug as he could make it. Tawashi stepped back; he was disgusted, but understood.

A knock came at the door, and the stale, blasé mood returned to the room. The door opened with Chief Nakamura at the knob.

"Your rehabilitation officer's here," He said quickly. "This is Ms. Inoue."

A woman stepped into the room, clutching a maroon pleather satchel; Tawashi nodded in approval as he exited the room. Tenma assumed that Tawashi would be joining the riff-raff behind the two-way mirror to his left.

Tenma studied the young woman as she set up her belongings. He was still uncomfortable around humans; it was probably their unpredictability and unlimited range of flaws that caused him to feel this way. It was first nature for him to look at a person as if they were an android he had to modify. The woman before him certainly needed repairs – shaking hands, joints need to be tightened. Hips perhaps too wide. Iris replacement to get a more vivid shade of green. There were colourful stickers all over the satchel – a glittering star, Sailor Moon, a flower – and he wondered momentarily if they'd sent him a five-year-old girl.

The woman finished setting up her papers and hastily took a seat, her long hair falling over her shoulders as she shot down into her seat.

"I'm sorry about the wait! I didn't know if I had the substance prevention form…" She dug into her jacket pocket. "I'd like to introduce myself."

She slid an ID card onto the table, encouraging Tenma to examine it. "My name is Nanora Inoue, and I've been assigned to your psychiatric and societal rehabilitation."

"A rather unique name," Tenma remarked as he studied the card's credentials; he more wanted to hear his own voice and give the semblance of conversation.

"This meeting is just what my superiors call a "meet and greet", but that's a rather corny term, in my opinion. I guess this is more like…" Inoue seemed to laugh, accidentally letting her nervousness show. "…An interview, maybe?"

She was trying so hard. He couldn't hate her for that.

Tenma folded his hands together on the table. "So what do you want from me?"

"Just information on what you'd like to do during reintegration." Inoue retrieved a pen – purple with a little Team Omega charm – and one of the countless forms. "Do you want to move out of your current housing? Any career aspirations?"

"I'd like to keep my lofts, and resume commission robot production."

"Are you okay with being under external surveillance during the first twelve months of rehabilitation?"

"It's no different from this," Tenma said, gesturing to the two-way mirror. It took Inoue by surprise and she laughed, far more natural-sounding than her first. Tenma could have sworn he felt safe.

There weren't as many forms to be filled out as he had feared. Inoue seemed pleased to get to skip so many.

"Have any family members been previously arrested or detained?"

"No."

"Well, that leaves out forms 4 and 5…" She flipped through papers yet again. "Do you have any psychological conditions or traumas?"

He inhaled slowly. "…Post traumatic stress disorder. Obsessive compulsive disorder."

"Are you receiving any therapy for these?"

"I am, now that I'm here."

"I'm glad," Inoue said, still concluding her notes. "There are still a lot of institutions out there that don't give any treatment to maximum security detainees."

""Institution", "detainee"…" Tenma was tempted to chuckle. "You certainly are kind with your words."

"They were telling me to be ultra-careful in advance, you know…" The woman rested her chin in one hand. "They wouldn't stop telling me how you're a 'class one danger'."

"Oh?"

"They're using this range of numbers now. Like, with 1 being the most hazardous and unobtainable, and 5 being the least. Er…you know the smuggler and gang leader, Skunk Kusai?"

"I know _of_ him."

"He's only a class three."

Tenma inhaled, and exhaled. "At least they gave me the honour of such a high rank."

"I want to give you a chance, though." Inoue placed her hands together on the tabletop, one hand on top of the other. "I've been shown your work, and you're an extraordinary designer and craftsman!"

"There's no need for flattery, officer." But his ego certainly enjoyed it.

"I still remember when my class took a tour of the Ministry of Science, some time ago…!" She was happy now, and it was cathartic to see. "I think you were in control then? I loved that Robita model you made. My family had one and we named her Abuelita. She's still working, too, even after she rolled down the driveway."

"Oh?"

"It's a long story."

"Well, I did design the Robitas to be as durable as possible, even despite…whatever that was." He wasn't insulted, though. Rather, particularly proud. Meanwhile, woman seemed thrilled to have a functioning conversation with him.

She jotted something down. Tenma noticed only then that the woman had wine red-painted fingernails. A beautiful colour, but to him, it almost clashed with the colourful stickers on her satchel.

Inoue slid the sea of forms back into her satchel. "I don't have much I need from you at this point, doctor. I don't know how much time they'll give me, but we can talk about anything you want."

"I'm just not sure if I'm comfortable yet," Tenma said, his voice coming out softer than he would have liked. It was his "audience" that was bothering him. The idea of talking to a benign being – human or otherwise – was a temptation that he didn't want to pass up. But if he rushed too hard into the opportunity, he could lose the contact with this person for good.

"That's perfectly fine!" Inoue reached out to retrieve her ID card from the centre of the table, but the sudden snap of lights from the two way mirror froze her hand in mid-movement. Tawashi, Nakamura and at least five officers with recording equipment were now fully visible on the other side.

"That should be enough," Nakamura called out, clapping his hands together once. "Proceed with escorting and re-detaining."

Tenma let himself groan in disgust. He felt large and burdening, and his own presence seemed to take up half the table. He didn't watch as two female police officers entered and just about pulled Inoue out of the room.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Inoue struggle to see over an officer's shoulder. "I'll see you next Wednesday!"

"Please do not prolong contact after th…" They were already out of the room. Four guards entered for him now, a pair of neoray handcuffs and stun guns in tow. He allowed himself to be cuffed, and went with them with no words or resistance, as usual.

It was routine by this point. They considered him a "class one", after all.


	2. Life Forces

Inoue returned for another meeting a few days later.

Tenma was relieved to find that this would take place in one of the meeting rooms, rather than an interrogation room. Sure, surveillance would still be heavy, but he preferred that to feeling as if he were at gunpoint.

He had been loaded into the meeting room, a small-sized but manageable room, with a couch, TV stand, and two stuffed chairs circling a long coffee table. The TV was idly playing a morning talk show. If not for the two cameras in the ceiling, it would have just looked like a washed-out employee lounge. The weak fluorescent lights were on, despite the wide, quadruple-layered, bullet-proof, shatter-proof, tamper-proof plexiglass window letting in a substantial amount of light.

She arrived perfectly on time, once again with the sticker-lined satchel. She seemed less rushed than the first meeting; he somehow noticed her collarbones right away, and admired their distinct, symmetrical construction and design.

Tenma stopped, massaging his temples. Dear lord, this was going to take a while.

Inoue approached the couches, exclaiming, "Doctor! It's good to see you again!"

"You too." Did he really mean it, Tenma wondered. He was now more concerned by how cramped he felt in a prison jumpsuit. "How are you today?"

"Pretty good, I've just got a-" Nanora tried to drop into a seated position on the adjacent couch, but sunk in farther than she expected, flailing for stability. Her first priority upon freedom from the depths of the couch was to repair her hair. "...A...A lot of paperwork to do later."

Tenma folded his hands together, resting his chin in them, both trying to get comfortable and hide the start of a smirk. "What've they got you here for today?"

"I'll be talking to you about 'social reintegration', like, just ensuring you'll be emotionally and psychologically prepared to start living in Metro City again."

"They're putting me back out...?"

"It depends on how well you'll be in some months. You'll probably be under house arrest for a while, too. Like I said, it depends."

"They're not telling you anything, are they?"

Inoue rolled her eyes. "The police are absolutely afraid of you."

"And yet, they gladly send in a lone 23-year-old-girl for them."

"25. But still, they consider you a walking nightmare."

Tenma sat back, disgusted, trying to keep in mind that it was the police's opinion, not Inoue's. He remarked, "And what've they got Lamp up to right now? The man who abused who abused his position, and among other things, instigated a-"

"Doctor, let's focus on you and your-"

"No, I think this relates to me." Casually, Tenma turned to the bulb-like camera in the ceiling to his right. "I'd like all of you to stop handling me like I'm a walking bomb."

"Doctor!" Inoue bolted to her feet.

He did the same, looming over her. "Inoue?!"

"Doctor, you've still broken numerous laws!"

"I was working for the best for my son!"

Inoue inhaled, her stare back at him piercing. "Doctor, your son is deceased."

Tenma froze, studying her. She had to be going somewhere with this.

"Hurting people and defying international laws isn't going to honour your son at all! Loss can be difficult to handle, but-"

He shot back, "Tell me what you know about loss!"

Inoue set her hands on Tenma's shoulders, slowly pushing him back down to the couch. He complied; cooperating with her would look good on the security footage. She sat down neatly on her couch when she was sure Tenma would remain seated.

Her hands folded together primly, resting on her knees. Her eyes piercing his, Inoue said, "My grandmother died when I was seven."

Tenma nodded firmly; a cue for her to continue.

"She raised my mother alone, and she helped out a lot with both sides of my family. We called her "abuelita", since she and my mother were from Spain, and..." Inoue paused, trying to focus. "...I'm sorry, I'm just remembering a lot all of a sudden. A week after she died, we got an enormous crate in the mail. My father got the crate open, and we found a red Robita model robot inside. Red was abuelita's favourite colour.

"It came pre-charged, and when we started it up, it introduced itself as Pressing Number ZX-872, nicknamed Abuelita. It turned out that abuelita had ordered this robot shortly before she died, and had arranged for it to be sent to us. She'd customized it almost entirely by herself. It was like having her back...but not quite. Abuelita acted like a usual Robita robot, but she already knew our names and preferences. Everybody came to love Abuelita but my mother. She refused to be in the same room as her. She even started working more hours so she wouldn't have to see it. She told my siblings and I, "That thing's trying to be my mother! It's a metal corpse!""

Tenma nodded. "What came of that?"

Inoue looked to the floor, the gentlest smile appearing on her face. "My sisters went out to Hong Kong for a vacation, and my father and brother were out all day trying to compare aerobike prices. Mom was stuck at home with a fever, leaving her with Abuelita. And Abuelita took care of her the whole time, and played some singer's version of "A La Puerta Del Cielo." It took her four months to finally get that my grandmother meant Abuelita as a gift, not a replacement...and another two to come to really enjoy her company."

"Mm." Tenma contemplated this for a moment. "I see we come from similar situations."

"And both of them need to end with acceptance." Inoue was regaining her boldness now. The room was quiet once again.

"Well, Inoue," he said. "Should we start my 'reintegration', on that note?"

"Oh!" Inoue sat up. "Please, call me by my first name — Nanora! I'd like you to feel comfortable around me."

"Nanora, then." Tenma sat forward. "Let's begin."

She laughed. "Please, I don't even know what part I should start with! Here, I'll grab something..."

As Nanora dug through her satchel, Tenma started to feel uneasy once again. Studying her face, he said, "I'm...quite sorry about losing my patience earlier."

"It's okay..." She pulled out one of maybe a dozen beige sheets. "I know you'll become more comfortable in the coming weeks. I just need to help ease you into this. Here's a bit of a test thing about future goals."

She pulled out a purple ink pen. "What would you hope to do if you were to move back into your old house-slash-apartment-slash-housing complex?"

"Construct an enormous robotic soldier," he said, perfectly straight-faced. Nanora gave him a look like he'd just laughed at a funeral. "All right, all right, that was out of line. I'd like to clean everything up and maybe redecorate."

Nanora nodded, writing in the latter response. "You're lucky you've got _me_ as your case worker, of all people...!"

* * *


	3. Sweet Lies

Maybe two nights later, Tenma had the worst dream he'd had in weeks.

His dreams for the longest time could barely be called such; all he'd gotten were surreal, altered replays of every incident at Robotania, or the night at sector seven in the Ministry. At worst, his sleep had been dreamless and restless. He would have preferred the latter.

The dream threw Tenma into the initially normal situation of driving home. His aerocar was the one he'd used for business long ago. He wore a neat, freshly-pressed, business suit, exactly the kind he used to wear as Minister of Science. His house was quickly becoming visible from up the road, still in perfect standing condition. The radio softly played, of all things, "Islands" by Kajagoogoo. It had been one of his ex-wife's favourite songs. Tenma would have gladly flicked the radio off, preferring silence to memories, feeling chalky and bitter as they seemed to pull themselves out of the back of his throat. Something kept him still in his seat, urging him to get to the house.

The front gates parted, and the black aerocar cruised inside, parking neatly along the front steps. Tenma got out and walked quickly up to the doors, unlocking them like he always would have, and walked into the prim and freshly-cleaned front hall. This was nothing like the living room, which remained unlit, in the same state of decay as when he'd destroyed the room and abandoned the house.

Glass clinked from the room, and Tenma gingerly stepped inside. Crouched by sofa was Tobio, pyjama-clad, gently sweeping up the pieces of a picture frame's glass with a small piece of wood. The boy seemed to hear his father's steps onto the carpet, and looked up, sleepy but content.

"T...Tobio...?" Tenma carefully put his hands out before him, preparing to attempt to embrace him. "Are you all right...?!"

"Yeah, just cleaning." Tobio stood up, his hands gripping at the edge of a dusty cloth that covered the sofa. "Whoosh!"

He flipped the sheet up over his head, like he was trying to straighten it out, but let it go as it hit the air. The sheet gently fell over him, hiding the laughing boy.

The sheet fell on the ground, laying flat.

* * *

Tenma sat later that day at a sewing machine in the jail's volunteer laundry department, carefully fixing the inseam in a pair of cotton uniform pants. Officer Youmi, an old Ainu woman with the strength of a linebacker, monitored him and a security camera. He could feel her staring at him.

"You all right there, Tenma?" She asked, the volume of her voice jarring him out of his thoughts. Tenma had come to trust her, though, and he let it pass.

"I didn't sleep well," he simply said, glad his jolt hadn't ruined the seam. "Almost done this one."

Youmi gave a stern, understanding nod. "I see, I see. You look like you got dragged under a truck."

Tenma closed the stitch, removed the cotton pants, and folded them neatly beside him. "It certainly feels like that. Anything else you need fixed?"

"Only a washing load that needs to b-" Youmi halted as a ripped sock was flung into the room, hitting the side of her desk. "Dammit, Kusai!"

Standing in the ticket window was Skunk Kusai, writing a laundry load claim ticket. He ripped it off the pad and stood there, grinning, with two equally goony looking men soon joining him.

"I caught the ankle a' that on the side of one of the cafeteria benches," he explained. "Do I get another one, or does Captain Crunch there get to personally fix it up?"

"You can wear a sandwich bag on your foot for all I care," Youmi spat back, now standing and nudging the sock away from her desk with the toe of her boot.

"Can you do my initials?" Skunk shouted in Tenma's direction. The fat, long-haired man beside him started chortling. "A tasteful, cursive S.K., maybe in lime green."

Tenma turned to the ticket window, reminding himself to stay calm. "Mock me all you want, but I'm not the one who got arrested four times in one year."

Skunk laughed; he had a squawky laugh not unlike the call of an irritated squirrel. "Hey, it ain't so bad! Nooj here's earnin' high school credits, Kuma might have a shot with one of the cafeteria workers, and I get a real meal."

"Sock size?" Youmi shouted, putting the sock into the Out Disposal crate, the sock suspended on the end of her pencil.

"I dunno, medium-large?"

"Nah, man, you've got little baby feet," added a tall, African-American man with tacky bleached hair behind Skunk. "You know what they say about men with tiny-ass feet."

Tenma massaged his temples with a sigh, hoping to wish himself out of the room. Youmi sat back at her desk, drawling, "You'll have a replacement in twenty minutes. If you are in your cell at that time, it'll be delivered to your cell."

"I can't have it now?"

"I like keeping you on your toes, Kusai."

"Thanks, I guess." He turned to Tenma. "Hey, Dr. Temba, right? You doin' okay in this joint? You're a bit of a legend down in medium security."

"Oh, _am_ I," Tenma said with forced interest, sewing again.

"Yeah. Word is, you got your own TV, your own eating space, and even your own gossip buddy."

"...You mean a rehabilitation worker?"

"Is it a 34-year-old Moroccan lady?" Called out the tall man, presumably named Kuma. "We're betting on which staff member's your worker."

Tenma paused, and said, "It's a middle-aged Taiwanese man."

Kuma cursed loudly and left the ticket window. Skunk started howling with laughter, slapping his hand on the counter.

"Go away, Kusai, would you?"

"Whaaat, can't a couple of master criminals have a chat?"

Tenma turned to focus on the young man, tired blue eyes sharpening like darts. "I am not a criminal."

"So you just dropped by for the snazzy jumpsuits and the prison spaghetti?" Skunk was winning this, regrettably. "No wonder they keep you up on the top floor. That little tin toy you made put a _lot_ of us in here. You'd be in one real mess if you ever went into t-"

" _That toy is my_ _ **son**_ _!_ " Tenma screeched, leaving his seat and reaching the ticket window in record time. Skunk leaped back in shock, and his short friend hit the floor and crab-walked rapidly up the hall in an effort to get away. " _And don't talk to me again!_ "

Tenma sunk back into the room, falling into an office hair beside a stack of freshly-cleaned jumpsuits. Youmi regarded him solemnly.

"I''ll call your staff over to take you back up," she said, stern but soothing. "Sorry, Umataro, but I have to file an incident report."

Tenma forced a nod, hunched over, barricading his face behind his hands.

* * *

Tenma's prison psychologist had given him a speech about the difference between healthy and unhealthy anger release. When Tenma pointed out that Skunk had instigated it, his doctor had only told him to "strive to take the high road."

"He's not the mentally ill one," Tenma had insisted.

"Exactly, he's the one who should know better."

Tenma sputtered, "What-?"

"I mean, in handling you."

"I am not I am not something to be 'handled'."

The psychologist seemed to know how deep they'd dug their own grave. "Would you like to go back to your cell?"

"I'd like to request my case worker, as well."

Tenma was being forced back up to his cell less than a minute later, one guard leading him on each arm. He was used to the maximum security sector by now; it was a tower of twenty floors of thick, steel-lined jail cells, circling a fireproof column of tamper-proof glass that doubled as two-way security vidcoms. Tenma could feel the stares coming from the tiny slots in the doors of other cells – not ones of hatred, rather, mere curiosity that something was happening out in the normally morgue-silent hall.

The familiar soft pat of velvet shoes on cement echoed up the corridor. Tenma didn't turn, knowing one sudden move would panic his guards. He wasn't in the mood for a cautionary electric shock at that moment.

"I'm here," Nanora called out, reaching them. "Was there something you needed?"

"I'd like an unbiased listener." Tenma continued to stare forward. "My apologies for forcing you up here."

"Oh, it's all right! I was stuck in a meeting until you called."

They reached his cell now. The guard on his left hammered an 8-digit code into the door, and as the other one loaded him into the room, the one at the door told Nanora, "Take this. You ever handled one before?"

"I have." Hard plastic gently met a hand. Tenma stifled a groan; a pocket emergency stun. Ten modes on a dial at the push of a button, with strengths ranging from "back massager" to "involuntary bladder emptier". He'd experienced nearly all of them at least once since his arrest.

Nanora finally entered, the cell door shutting behind her with a dead thud. The guards were clearly still out there, waiting. Tenma sat down at his small desk, watching the young woman examine the black teardrop-shaped remote in her hand.

"I don't think I'll have to use this..." She set it into her satchel. "...I know you called me here without ulterior motives."

Tenma nodded, adding, "Thank you."

Nanora leaned against the wall beside the desk. "I've been informed of everything that happened, and my priority now is just making sure you haven't 'regressed', to use the prison psychologist term."

"Clearly the prison psychologists know what they're doing," He sneered, not looking at her. It wasn't this woman's fault.

"I know, but are you okay?" She slid to the side of the desk, sitting on the edge to look down at him. "I don't often get summoned by a client."

"Why not? You're a fantastic listener."

"It's a job requirement." Nanora seemed more comfortable. "And you're very interesting to listen to. I'm getting a lot of praise from my bosses for managing to get through to you! They were 'highly doubtful' or something."

"Do I really come off as that ironclad?" Tenma felt flattery more than anything else.

"Yeah, they think it's like..." Nanora paused, trying to form a thought. "Do...do you know _Silence of the Lambs_? It's a lot like that, with Hannibal and Clarice, as they're comparing th-"

"Please do _not_ compare me to a cannibal."

"I'm sorry."

Tenma looked up at the woman, analyzing her face. Emoticap v.12.05, 78% + 20% + 2%. She meant well. As clunky as her performance could be, it certainly beat being thrown around or outright neglected by the humans in this facility. It also helped that she would be his key to getting released.

"You're thinking about something," Nanora said, a combination of a statement and a question.

"I keep seeing you as a robot on instinct."

"Instinct?" Her head tilted gently. "Do you think there's anything behind that?"

"I can tell you offhand that I trust robots more than humans."

"Are you saying you want to imagine I'm a robot, because you don't trust humans anymore?"

Tenma froze, a little stunned. Nanora was far too amused by this than he would have liked, even though it answered one of his questions.

Nanora got off the desk edge. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"I don't want to keep you here against your will."

"No, not at all!" Nanora waved her hands. "This is saving me from that meeting. We were discussing who'd have to work with this chronic shoplifter. Amphetamines may have also been a factor in her behaviour. She's like 22, and she wouldn't stop drooling on the tabletop. Missing teeth, or something. I was about to puke until an intern told me you needed me."

Apprehensive, Tenma replied, "Well, my dear Inoue, you certainly spare no details when you speak."

"I'm sorry." Nanora shrunk away just the slightest. "I shouldn't be so casual on duty, I suppose."

The awkward mood in the cell was almost palpable.

Tenma stood up with a sigh, tucking his hands into his jumpsuit pockets. He strolled up to Nanora, looking down at her apologetically. The two locked eyes; he seemed to tower over her as she stood before him, unafraid, her hands on the handle of her satchel. Nanora quickly looked to the floor and back up, a flustered smile appearing on her face.

"I forgot what I was going to say," Tenma sputtered.

The two broke out laughing, relief returning to the room. It was practically liberating. He set a hand on her forearm. "Well, I'd offer you a cup of tea, but I'm not even allowed to have glass in here."

"There's _one_ thing you can have..." Nanora dug into her satchel, pulling out a round, pearl white egg, with a single button on its side. Tenma stared at it uncomfortably.

"...Is that woman's personal hygiene device?"

"No! _No_ , it's a calling device." Nanora strolled over to the desk, rushing away from Tenma like he were naked, and set the white egg down. "With this, you can contact me anytime I'm not in the building! I turn my receivers off at 10PM, though."

She pressed the top button, and a small holographic menu popped up from the top; it offered two preloaded numbers and a few functions. "The top one is my work number, the second is my home number. You can add more numbers if necessary."

Tenma admired the holographic screen, pressing the function button and finding himself impressed by its quick display time. "I'm honoured. Thank you, Nanora."

"It's no problem!" That rosy colour flooded her face again. "I'd like you to have an easy way to talk to me. I had to keep changing its frame and mechanics until the warden's staff declared it 'safe', sure, but it'll be worth it."

Tenma was intrigued. He stepped back towards her, asking, "You fancy yourself an engineer?"

"Not really, but I do like model kits." They were face to face, and Nanora's eyes batted on reflex.

"That's a shame." Tenma cocked an eyebrow. "It's quite a turn-on when a woman loves robotics like I do."

"Time's up," one of the guards shouted, bursting into the room. Either one went to Nanora's side like bodyguards, protectively escorting her out of the room. Nanora only waved back at Tenma over the shoulder of the tall woman behind her, her eyes almost sparkling. The same guard shouted back into the cell, "You will be retrieved for dinner in an hour."

Tenma nodded, watching the door close behind them. He sat down at the little desk, resting his chin in his clasped hands. He could use a glass of Bodegas Roda Cirsion about now. Tenma looked at the little shining egg Nanora had given him – gently placed beside the two photos he'd been allowed in jail. He didn't want to look at them at that moment, or he knew he'd break down again. It was the photos of Tobio...er, of Tobio and Astro that he'd had in his vest the night he'd almost killed himself in sector seven. A letter from Ochanomizu had recommended Tenma be allowed to keep them for his health.

Guilt slowly set into him as he heard the elevator slowly cascade down the tower outside his cell – Nanora had to be in there. Could he really manipulate a young woman like her? She seemed so hopeful for him, and perhaps it _was_ a bad idea to rush his release. Tenma felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff; he could turn back and let Nanora and the prison's plans happen, or jump back down into manipulation and deceit. At the point he was at in the plan, there was still time to stop.

He ran his finger along the frame of the egg. Maybe he'd call her later. Maybe.

* * *

"You know," said Officer Cee in the elevator. "This is a prison, not a dating service."

"I _know_..." Nanora sighed. "I didn't apply for the Tenma case for _that_ , Brenda. If going along with him makes him open up more, it's a win-win situation."

Officer Pavel chortled, tapping his fingers on the wall of the elevator. "How's getting drooled on by a nutjob tyrant win-win?"

"He gets more comfortable with people," Nanora counted on one hand, and then the other. "And I get to be known for successfully rehabilitating a high-risk inmate."

"Ahh," Cee and Pavel said in unison, the latter guard nodding. Nanora shrugged just the slightest, feeling increasingly exhausted. Cee added, "Give us all the details. The rest of us are dying to see what this guy is like."

Pavel's eyes widened, exclaiming, "I heard made himself into a part cyborg." Pavel pointed at his own eyes. "Like he's got eye lasers...all the same powers Astro Boy has!"

"Pre-medication, he was _planning_ to be remade as an immortal robot clone," Nanora recited from memory, swiping her hair back over her shoulder. "And come on, Ahmid! Astro's got eye _lights_ , not lasers."

As soon as the elevator opened on the main floor, Nanora rushed out of the shaft and towards her office. She locked her door and sunk into her chair, clicking through her schedule. A meeting with her supervisors about Tenma's call. An introduction to a possible new case... _ugh, I have to get that whiny bank robber guy?_ Dinner with Kathy and Merry...she'd never hear the end of Tenma rumours. Nanora sighed, debating the repercussions of taking a nap in her office. That check-up on Tenma had taken a lot out of her.

_His ego is certainly coming back full force,_ she thought, her face flushing pink again. _I must be doing something right._


	4. Your Mother Should Have Told You

Eight Years Prior

* * *

Nanora Inoue rushed out of her final class of the day, throwing her backpack over her shoulder as she rushed out to the closest exit. Her digital recorder and notebooks were staring to stab into her back, and she couldn't wait to get out to Kathy's car.

Merry Kokonsari caught up with her, rushing out of her history class across the hallway. She pulled her own audio recorder out of her backpack, asking, "Are you hype too?"

"I just wish I didn't get the hardest guy," Nanora sighed, but she still couldn't wait. She, Kathy, and Merry had snagged what Kathy called "the scoop of the century" - thirty minutes of access for interviews at the Ministry of Science for the school newspaper. The three had a current events assignment, and the girls were equally nervous. Nanora just regretted thinking she could interview the Minister of Science himself.

Kathy Horowitz had a fifth period spare, and she was parked right outside the school, waving a box of donuts she'd just picked up. Merry's long legs carried her up to the car while Nanora flailed under her huge backpack, shrieking.

Through a donut, Merry yelled out, "Don't wear so much denim! It adds weight!"

The three were soon enough on their way to the Ministry, running over their plan of attack. Merry was to meet Dr. Lalinde in her office to ask about female-oriented robotics. Kathy's was planned to be the most difficult, meeting Dr. Shimoto in the lobby, asking about the fate of robotic A.I. and getting a tour through the basic automaton lab. Nanora had to meet with Minister Tenma and ask about the institute's progress in making a humanoid robot.

"Hungry-wanna-donut?" Merry said, holding out the box to Nanora in the back seat. The girl shook her head in a flurry of black and blue moptop hair.

"I think I'm gonna pass out," Nanora whined, looking at the email from Minister Tenma on her phone. "I wasn't this nervous even when I got pulled into the office for that fight."

"C'mon, it can't be so bad!" Kathy said from the front seat. "Lalinde's the one who invited us in the first place."

"You're not the one who has to talk to a government official," Nanora whined again while Merry went in for a third donut.

"Well," Kathy said, parking beside the Ministry. "You're the one who looked at my pictures of all three scientists and said, "Oh, hey, I'll take the hot one.""

Nanora's face felt like it was on fire. "I-I didn't know he was the Minister!"

They had maybe two minutes to spare. Grabbing their note-taking equipment, the three hurried out of the car and to the building, Nanora finally free from her huge backpack. "Remember," Kathy called out as she led them in, "Split up and get right to the point with 'em!"

Nanora got inside and kept running until she reached the elevator. _Office 1012. Office 1012_ , she thought, hammering the tenth floor button. _Office 1012. 1012. Ten tweeeelve._ The elevator felt like it couldn't possibly be slower unless it had been designed to.

A shining yellow service robot greeted her right as the elevator opened on the tenth floor, nearly giving her a heart attack. "I-den-ti-fy-ing," it squawked. "Are-you-the-Na-no-ra-Ee-noo-eh?"

She bowed on first instinct, though she soon felt stupid for it. "Y-Yes, but pronounced ee- _noh_ -eh."

"Right-this-way-Miss-Ee-noo-eh," the robot chimed, turning sharply up the hall. Nanora sighed in annoyance and rushed after it. She regretted eating even one donut; her mouth felt chalky, and the a major stitch on her side didn't help.

Room 1012 wasn't far down the hall. Upon reaching it, the service robot nodded at her and scooted back up the hall. Nanora stopped long enough to steady her breathing, pulling a comb out – one that looked like a switchblade when closed – and smoothed out her short raven hair into something more presentable. As she did, she studied the doors to Minister Tenma's office. Two tall sliding doors, maybe thrice her size, with a pearlescent plate outside the room; 1012, Minister of Science, Umataro Tenma. That plate alone had to have cost more than her whole outfit.

Nanora approached a little buzzer on the door, ready to press it, but the office doors slid open and she almost toppled over.

 _That cretin probably knew what I was doing out here,_ she thought, grimacing.

Nanora approached the door, apprehensive, and studied the office from the doorway. The office was a semicircle shaped room, with one large glass window for the outer wall, featuring a gorgeous view of the surrounding city skyline. A large, glossy oak desk sat in the centre with a deep brown finish. A flatscreen vidcom was on the other wall, lined in more pearlescent trim. A selection of potted flowers hung from the ceiling before the glass wall, and gorgeous Renaissance art prints hung along the walls. Nanora stopped, fondly admiring the print of Leonardo Da Vinci's _St. John the Baptist_.

A figure approached her from the other end of the room, his pristine lab coat flowing as he strolled towards her. "You fancy yourself an art historian?"

"Not really, but..." Nanora locked eyes with St. John, her free hand hitting the record button on her player. "I know the story behind this one. Da Vinci used his lover Salai as the model. He was a huge troublemaker for Da Vinci throughout their relationship."

"Ah. You've dressed like a punk, but you're quite intelligent." He held out one strong hand. "Minister Umataro Tenma. My pleasure."

Nanora carefully put her hand with Tenma's and shook once, sternly and business-like. She bowed a bit as she did so; she felt like a cherubic Cupid had flown down from the heavens, stabbed a heart-shaped arrowhead into her ribcage, and suplexed her into a pit of fluffy clouds. She withdrew her hand quickly before it got accustomed to where it was.

Tenma nodded at her, smirking, and turned to his desk. "Right this way. Let's get onto that interview."

Nanora practically skated on air to the seat before his desk, pulling forth her notebook. As she set down her recorder, Tenma remained standing, pushing aside a few stacks of paper and a giant book called _Emotive Capabilities in Robotics from 1984-2024_ ; the title alone made her head spin. He put a bookmark in the book, asking, "Care for a cigarette? Whiskey?"

"Sir, I'm seventeen."

"Duly noted." He took a seat, folding his hands neatly on the desktop.

Nanora glanced up from her notes. "So, doctor, there's been a lot of buzz about the Ministry's plan to create a humanoid robot with near-perfect AI."

"It's been a long-time goal of mine," Tenma said proudly. "I've long been interested in seeing just how human a robot could become."

"How so?"

"I don't believe robots were created only to be servants. One can argue that they've been enslaved today. I _do_ believe that they're part of a developing frontier of existence, one that could make humans change what they perceive about what it makes to be a 'person'."

Nanora wrote furiously. "How are you planning to develop robot, uh, intelligence?"

"Perseverance, my dear." He sat back, smug. "Robots are currently limited to a selection of pre-installed speech and vocabulary patterns, and the Cappler Learning Capability, but during my lifetime, I need to see a robot that can form its own opinions right out of the activation capsule. I've been currently working with humanoid simulation programs, having interns hold conversations with them in an attempt to build the simulation's accept-and-respond processor."

"You definitely sound like you know what you're doing," she said, barely containing a swoon. If only everything he'd just said made sense.

Tenma only chuckled warmly. "That's what years of dedication will do. The way I feel about it, I won't let myself go to the grave until I make a robot with the power to act and feel like a human."

"I envy your determination..." Nanora looked down, flustered. _Dammit, dammit, keep focus!_ She looked back up, trying to regain composure. "What can young people do to p-push forward the robot race?"

"Well..." Tenma stood up, pacing casually. "Support and read into the art of robotics. To those out there considering becoming roboticists, they have my support!"

Nanora jolted back when a hand passed by her face, grabbing the recorder and stopping it. The girl sat stunned as he examined it, making sure it had saved everything, and then tossed it back into her lap. Tenma gave her a cold glare of pure scorn, strolling away from her to the window wall.

"B..." She picked up the recorder like it had just been on fire. "...But I'm not done!"

"I do believe that interview will be sufficient," he said, his back to her, arms folded behind his back.

Nanora shoved the recorder into her jean jacket pocket, hitting the REC button, scrambling to her feet. She sputtered back, "Th-that's not really enough for me to get a-"

"Lalinde may not be, but I'm familiar with your kind, young lady..." He whirled around, pacing towards her, staring down his nose at her. "Writing mewling poems about saving the Nunavut seals in your diaries. Holding free-trade rallies in your cafeteria. Coming up with stories about how robots are going to destroy the environment with your hippie friends, smoking pot around a campfire and singing Kumbaya, am I right?"

"Not in the slightest," she hissed, feet planted into the ground.

Tenma now loomed over her. "Do you know how many calls and visitors I get a day from people desperate to incriminate me? Last month, they thought I was illegally disposing uranium. Last week, they thought I was intentionally wasting power. This week, they think I'm trying to replace hu-"

"You honestly think I came here because I wanted to?"

"You're practically batting your eyes every time I move," Tenma said with disgust. "You're not the first sycophant I've put up with."

"You smell like booze."

"And you're in over your head, young lady. Leave my office and take that interview with you."

She clenched her fists. "I refuse to move from this spot!"

Tenma studied her once again, looking her up and down; the girl had practically bolted herself to that spot on the carpet. He stepped back to his desk, reaching under the desktop, aiming for something, then looked up at her with a grin.

"Which would you like?" He asked, eyes alive now. "You leave the office, or I press this nice little button and have you dragged out?"

Nanora exhaled, defeated, and turned away from him towards the door while the doctor stared at her the whole time. The walk to the door felt ten times longer than it had been when she entered, and like a huge spotlight was hanging over her. As she grabbed the door handle, Tenma cleared his throat, causing her to jolt.

"Give my regards to your teachers," he said, oddly chipper.

She shoved open the door. "Yeah, and give _my_ regards to Jack Daniels."

* * *

She wound up getting a higher grade for the "candid interview" than for the first one.

* * *

Nanora poked at her peanut satay with a fork, every exhale feeling like a sigh. Merry was telling a story about one of the kids in her gymnastics class, with Kathy laughing, but Nanora just couldn't focus.

Kathy brushed at her shoulder, asking, "You all right there, Nano?"

"H-Huh?" Nanora sat up with a shock. "Oh, I'm okay."

"How's it going with the doctor, by the way?" Merry put her chin in her hands, already sensing a juicy story. "I've been dying to hear about it."

Nanora seemed to wilt. "It's a...it's a thing all right. He's at least less of a pain than when I interviewed him in 12th grade."

Kathy smirked. "Is he still a massive boozer?"

"Is it true he made a gun out of a bedspring and a spork?" Merry asked. "I heard the kids in my class talking about it."

"No, not at all!" Nanora groaned. "Prison beds don't even have springs."

A waitress came to their table, collecting their plates. She glanced at Nanora, asking, "Oh, do you want that wrapped up? Or are you done?"

"N-no, I'm still working on it," she said hurriedly, stuffing a forkful into her mouth. The waitress nodded, making a plate pile.

"Can we have the dessert and the wine menus?" Kathy asked, holding up one finger. The waitress said something, eliciting a laugh from Kathy. Nanora regretted digging into a cold spot of her satay.

"You're not even being subtle," complained Merry.

"Subtlety doesn't matter when you're about to get a date," Kathy said, sitting back proudly. Merry just rolled her eyes and leaned in towards Nanora.

She whispered, "Flaunting it, wouldn't you say?"

Nanora didn't look up. Both women begun to realize that something was really, really bothering the normally-chipper Nanora. Not noticing the two pairs of eyes on her, Nanora took another bite of lukewarm satay.

"Is the waitress here yet? I want her to toss this..." She let go of her fork, letting it fall limply onto a pile of noodles with a gentle _plorp_.

"You don't look so good," Kathy said, nervous.

Nanora glanced up. "I'm just wrapped up with work. Nothing serious."

"Oh. Okay, I almost thought it w-"

"Tenma's hitting on me," Nanora whined, sinking into her seat in defeat. "And I know it's just to trick me into doing something stupid like letting him out early or giving him tools!"

Merry started to reach out for Nanora's shoulder, asking, "How...sure are you?"

"Because it's working," she said, putting her face into her hands in frustration. "And he sure doesn't remember me!"

"A-and you're not reporting him?" Kathy choked on her drink. "He's gotta be like 60."

"Forty-eight," Nanora groaned from behind her hands. "It's like getting Valentines from Walter White."

"Can't you get someone else to take your place?"

Nanora sat up suddenly. "That's the thing! There _isn't_ someone else. I was the only one who was interested in working on it, and only because I need a big rehab case, and...and, I pitied him."

The table was silent; Nanora out of embarrassment, and the other two out of dismay and worry. Merry clenched her fists, struggling to come up with something uplifting to say, but Kathy's favourite waitress returned with menus.

"Here you are, ladies!" She said happily. She turned to Kathy, asking, "Is there anything you'd like right now?"

"Some dessert recommendations..." Kathy folded her hands together smoothly. "You look like you know a lot about sweetness."

The waitress laughed – an honest one, luckily – and the two started chatting again as Merry shuffled closer to the wilted Nanora. She gave her a quick poke on the shoulder, eliciting Nanora's glance.

"If you wanna know what I think," Merry whispered enthusiastically, "I think you shouldn't give up just yet. You've been training all these years! And if the doctor starts giving you trouble, I'll drop by and give him a good-old-fashioned swan kick in the face!"

She snapped her dark brown fingers at that last bit. Nanora felt a little more confidence flood into her, and she sat up, exhaling.

"Thank you," Nanora said, a smile returning. "I'm going to keep working with him until I'm truly done."


	5. Go To Zero

The mood in the visitation room could not have been more awkward.

On one side of the plexiglass sat Astro, clad in a little, formal suit, disassembling and reassembling a mechanical pencil he'd found. On the other side sat Tenma, who couldn't decide how he wanted to rest his hands on the tabletop. Astro wished one of the people in the other room would help him out, and Tenma could go for jumping out the window.

"...How have you been?" Astro asked after a moment.

Tenma nodded, still not looking directly at the boy. "...Good."

"Ah." The boy nodded too. "I've...had lots of questions since the...sector seven incident?"

"...Go on?"

Astro shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. He let go of the pencil pieces, looking up, and asked, "When you come out, are you going to, you know...have me live with you again?"

Tenma sighed, shaking his head. "...No. I just can't. You're better off where you are now."

"Really?" Astro's eyes seemed to shine. Tenma couldn't tell if it was just the plexiglass, or if he'd become more human than he'd expected.

"I've told you myself, I'm not fit to be a father. Especially not in my current condition." Tenma's expression was the softest that Astro had ever seen. "I do consider myself your father in a way, but, that's up to you."

"I think you're my father, too," Astro said. "But I have two. You're the father who made me, and Dr. Ochanomizu is the father who raises me."

Tenma nodded, smiling. "I see. My son used to see things like that, too."

"So I'm your second son?"

The doctor suddenly felt a knot in his stomach. "...Oh. I suppose, yes."

"What about Uran?"

"...I've only met her once, and I was ill then. I don't know much about her."

Astro pulled the little remocom from his pocket and typed into it, saying enthusiastically, "Maybe you can meet her now! But I warn you, she's pretty spirited."

Tenma only nodded grudgingly. The door opened on Astro's side, the guards watching as an equally-disgruntled Uran stomped into the room, her face gloomy as she kept her eyes on Tenma through the glass. She walked as slowly as possible up to Astro's chair, and stood there, glaring at the older man on the other end.

"...Hello," Tenma said, trying to brandish a kind smile. Astro too was eager to make this work out.

"It's okay," Astro told Uran, putting a hand on her shoulder. "He's safe to talk to now."

Uran stood there, locking eyes with Tenma. After a painfully tense moment, she put one finger under her eye and stuck out her tongue.

" _Beh_ ," she said.

"I see." Tenma was reaching through the small hole in the bottom of the plexiglass, taking the disassembled mechanical pencil in hopes of putting it back together. "Nice to meet you, too."

"I drew you a picture," Uran mumbled as she pulled something out of her tunic pocket. She held it out, glowering; it was a colouring book page of a cartoon rooster coloured in black and purple. The stink lines around it were a nice touch.

Dr. Ochanomizu hurried into the room, probably previously watching from the doorway. He gasped, taking the paper, "Uran, I told you not to bring that!"

She hopped up and down trying to pull it back. "I've been waiting all week to show him!"

"But it's not nice!" Ochanomizu turned to the glass, giving an honest smile and a bit of a bow. "I...I hope you're well, Tenma."

Tenma shrugged a bit. "I'm all right. And I'm not offended; I was a child once too."

Uran half-shouted, "You were?"

"I truly hope you're doing better," Ochanomizu continued. "I aspire to work with you again one day."

"Why?"

Ochanomizu was almost shocked. "Because you have endless talent! I'd be honoured to collaborate with you on something. A new robot, maybe! Or something to help human and robots alike. You could design it, and I could put it together. Just like when we worked together before you became Minister."

"I see..." Tenma looked down at his hands. "I'd have thought no rational person would ever want to be near me again."

"I'm sure many people will want to, when you're rehabilitated!" More than Tenma would admit, Ochanomizu was improving his mood. "There's so much out there ahead for you."

Tenma inhaled, then exhaled, nodding. "Th...Thank you."

Ochanomizu stepped back, tugging on Uran's shoulder, hinting for her to do the same. Ochanomizu nervously checked his watch – the three had about five minutes of visiting time left. Astro and Tenma had wasted a lot of it humming and hawwing over what to say.

"What should I...call you?" Astro asked Tenma fter a second.

"That's entirely your choice." Tenma resisted adding "my boy" at the end. He knew he couldn't persuade the boy like that.

"Hmm..." Astro put a hand to his chin, thinking. "Is there a possible way to blend "doctor" and "father"?"

Tenma laughed a bit. "My son used to think like that, too. Maybe _Haka-san_?"

"Pretty good!" The boy snapped his fingers. "I'd have to be careful how I say the "ka", though, or I get _ha-kaasan_. And you're not my mom."

"Well, of course!"

"Dr. Dad, maybe?" Astro suddenly looked concerned. "No, no, that's too corny..."

"Take your time, T- Astro. It doesn't need to be final today."

"All right..." Astro looked back up. "Well, I also wanted to tell you that I got a 95% on my Social Studies test yesterday."

" _Only_ a 95? I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

Astro nodded. "Yeah, I think it's my favourite subject. I can do maths and science really easily, but I like the challenge of understanding current events and what people do."

"Ah, intriguing! I'm very proud of you." Tenma set down the assembled pencil. "You've developed so much since I first built you.

A bell went off in Astro's side of the room. The boy looked up, distressed, asking pleadingly, "Not even five more minutes?"

A female guard responded somewhere, "Sorry, Astro. It's all according to schedule."

"Okay..." Astro stood up neatly, turned back to the plexiglass, and nodded kindly with a gentle smile. "I'll see you next Monday, _haka-san_."

Tenma nodded deeply; a seated bow. "Good luck...Astro."

Ochanomizu bowed as well, and Uran still stood rigid, a statue; Child On Fire. The three began to leave, and Tenma remained seated, hands folded on the desktop. Guards begun to approach him from either side.

It had been nice while it lasted.

* * *

Tenma was relieved to find himself put in another casual meeting room again. There was no TV in this one, but he certainly didn't miss it. He also wasn't sure as to whether or not the floor tiling reminded him of a high school classroom.

Nanora entered a moment later, hurried, clutching the now-familiar satchel. She said with the slightest wave, "Hi there, doctor!"

He only nodded at her, smiling back. "How is your day so far?"

"Not bad, I think?" Nanora sat on the opposite couch – this time lowering herself carefully onto it - and opened her satchel. "I had another meeting with my new case. Nathan "Nooj" Waskowitz? He mentioned you, but doesn't know I work _with_ you."

"Good lord, is that one of Skunk's men?"

Nanora snapped her fingers. "Oh! Yeah! He's so interesting, too. Did you know that in order to join the West Side Metro Vipers, you need to carve a star into your-"

"Nanora, dear, I'd prefer not to think about anything to do with Kusai." Tenma sat back, resting an arm on the top of the couch. "I'd like to get down to business."

 _Dear?_ Nanora froze a little, staring into her satchel. "H-huh...what should I get to first...?"

Tenma only watched her in anticipation while the young woman grappled with recovering her train of thought. She pulled out her things in threes; a purple Ziploc bag, the Ministry and housing statements, and the pocket emergency stun control capsule. She carefully handed the little plastic bag over to the man across from her. Tenma accepted and examined it, shock dawning on his face.

"M-My pipe?" He gingerly took it out of the bag, examining it; it was in the same perfect condition as when he left it in his workshop before flying out to sector seven. Along with it was a little tin of Kinzu Tobacco, long out of production, but the tin itself a trinket from his father. He looked back up at Nanora, who looked back at him serenely.

"I found these when Tawashi's crew searched your lab," Nanora said. "I thought you'd like something from home."

"T-Thank you," he sputtered softly. "This means so much to me."

"It's no problem." Nanora tossed a little dollar store lighter at him, adding, "You're going to want to smoke anyway you hear what this statement has to say."

Over the tinny clink of the lighter, Nanora stood up and begun reading loudly from the first statement. "Dear. U. Tenma. After consideration from our board of directors, the Ministry of Science has chosen to ban you from the premises until further notice."

"Why are you pacing?" Tenma asked, exhaling a ribbon of white smoke.

"Smoke is bad for ladies' skin."

"...Okay?"

"Your zone of denied entry includes: 1) Within three metres to the front steps of the Ministry..." Nanora held up a finger for each number. "And 2) Within fifty metres of airspace around the Ministry. Your presence will be banned or limited in similar fashions at any Ministry-owned facility in Metro City."

Tenma hissed, "Why do I get more space on the ground?"

"I don't know. "You may be accompanied by a Ministry staff member with a previously-approved application, which must be filed at least three business days prior to the intended visit day. Access without permission will be considered trespassing and may result in further criminal charges, depending on severity of entry." Nanora took a breath. "Finally, any member of the Ministry who visits your residence must be monitored during the visit for the first 18 months of your release."

Tenma was sulking, pipe clenched between his teeth. He grumbled, "So who approved this?

"Um..." Nanora pulled back the paper and searched it. "Uh, there's like twelve people."

"Is Ochanomizu one of them?"

"Well, he's like the tenth one. There's a Hamada, a Lalinde, a Champignac, an Ichimura, a Zorgl-"

Tenma asked with a sigh, "Do you get any input on this?"

"No, I had nothing to do with it." She brushed some tousled hair back over her shoulder. "To be honest, I think space would be good for you. It's important to get away from toxic environments."

"I see, I see..." The knot in Tenma's stomach still wouldn't unravel. He started packing his pipe again, withdrawal taking the wheel. "What else have you got to report?"

"An evaluation of your chosen living quarters. This one, I actually had input on. Do you want the whole reading, or the short version?"

"Short version."

Nanora sat back down, putting the papers beside her, and said, "You can return to your apartment when you're out. However, you need to undergo psychological evaluation to ensure you won't use your remaining twenty-three robot hounds for malevolent purposes. And we've manually modified your robotic equipment to only suck in the maximum amount of power of a civilian household."

"W-what?!" Tenma choked on a mess of smoke, spit, and disgust. Through hacks, he sputtered, "Y-You let th-them touch my equipment?!"

"I'm the one who pushed for them to let you _keep_ it!" Nanora looked like an infuriated bunny. "I had to pull out page after page of notes to prove you need a distraction!"

"They could have broken something!" He stood up, enraged, ignoring Nanora's fair hand now on the stun capsule.

"We had top-level technicians with us!"

Tenma quickly changed plans. He drew a breath, then calmly approached her with a gentle face. "Nanora, please..." He sat on the arm of the couch, so he sat over her, one arm draped behind her back. "A man like me needs th-"

The capsule clicked. She had to have had it on 8.

Tenma found himself screaming on the floor in a flailing mess of limbs and tobacco dust. All sorts of prayers went off in his head as the wave of red-hot needles shot across his skin. _Please, please, don't let me vomit this time._

When control of his senses returned, Tenma could focus on a grim-faced Nanora standing over him, the capsule clutched in both hands. Her hands shook just the slightest as she stared over him, barely holding back whatever fury he had unleashed.

"That's a warning," she said, carefully. "No more trying to sweet talk me. It wasn't working, and it still won't work."

"Miss Nanora," he gasped, trying to get to his feet.

"Back-up necessary?" squawked a security officer on the other end of Nanora's watch.

Now incensed, she put it right up to her face, howling into it, " _ **No**_ _! Situation entirely under control! Over!_ "

"O-Ow, not so-" But she hang up on him. She looked back at Tenma, trying to speak, but just made a desperate squeaking noise as she stomped once in place.

"J-Just comply!" She wailed in frustration. "You can't charm, build, or fight your way out of a proper rehabilitation period!"

Tenma pulled himself onto the couch. "Nanora..."

"I want you to get better," she sighed. "I want _all_ my clients to. But this is a two way street! You have to want to get better! I'm not letting another dangerous client get let loose!"

"If I may..." Tenma only looked down at his folded hands. "...Another?"

She seemed to collapse into a seated position on the other couch. Tenma suddenly realized they had changed seats unintentionally. After a moment, Nanora said, "There was another Level 5 inmate before you. He was so nice to me, and I thought he was ready. _Everybody_ in this facility thought he was ready. So we let him out four months early! Not even a week later, I go to check on him, and he's burned out his apartment, and another worker spots him with Vito Castafiore!"

Nanora locked her eyes shut tightly. "He's out there somewhere, and nobody knows what he's going to do. I don't even know if he's got plans for me!"

"Who was this...?"

Nanora looked away, sighing. "Rock Holmes. Mob leader, human trafficker, kidnapper, public urinator...you name it, he did it. We got him after he had a run-in with Astro."

Tenma didn't know what to say, but he did know he'd made a horrible mistake in handling the girl. She looked almost as time-worn as him; almost fragile at this point.

"Miss Nanora, I'm sorry. For my behaviour."

She sat up, the last of a sigh exhaling as she said, "Thank you, doctor."

"Denial is what got me into this place..." He tried to smile. "I suppose."

Nanora nodded. "We need to work together to get you back in good health. Don't see me as an puzzle. Just see me as a teammate."

Tenma nodded as well, in understanding. "I will, Miss Nanora."

She looked so much happier now. "Good. Then your _real_ rehabilitation starts now."


	6. Let's Fall In Love Tonight

Laundry and linen duty was becoming the most cathartic part of Tenma's week. Youmi had been trying to phase him into social situations lately, as was this shift's plan – the laundry group was to hand out fresh uniforms to some of the medium security inmates post shower.

Tenma, accompanied by two young guards, weighed the repercussions of jumping into the linen cart and wheeling himself into open traffic.

Bitter, naked inmates stormed into the large locker room, shoving or yelling at each other. Some men seemed to recognize Tenma, but didn't seem to care. More attention was going to the unfortunate guard who had to hand out the underwear.

Skunk Kusai came up in line, and Tenma seemed to hear a barn owl screech inside his own head. Kusai scooped up the linens with a prim, "Morning, doc."

"...You're still alive?"

"Eh, I manage in here..." Skunk started to move away, still smug; he must've been reprimanded after last time after all. Skunk bumped into a bulkier man behind him, who-

Lamp. Acetylene Lamp in this group, of all possible people Tenma could have seen at this moment in the same prison. Tenma burst out laughing at the sight of him, almost forgetting to hand Lamp a fresh jumpsuit. Lamp's scowl looked like it had been freshly carved out of marble.

"What's so funny?!" Lamp growled, snatching away the florescent orange jumpsuit.

"So, tell me..." drawled Tenma. "Are you class one? Two?"

"...Two," Lamp grumbled, eliciting more laughter from Tenma. "You can laugh, but you're still the one handing _me_ my clothes!"

"Sure, but I'm not the one who takes his showers with eighty other men." Tenma smirked back at Lamp. "You might have been an A-list bureaucrat in Metro City, but you still eat _pureed slime_ like all the rest of the medium levels."

Lamp was ready to sink a fist into Tenma's chin until a sharp yet small taze from one of the guards hit him. A now dressed Skunk pushed past the gasping Lamp as he struggled to recover, grabbing fresh socks.

"You dare shove me, boy?!" Lamp grabbed at Skunk, but only got another taze bolt.

Skunk gave the sock pair a quick toss in the air, and as they landed in his hand, said, "I just want my socks."

"I think I know you..." Lamp pointed a steady finger at the younger man. "You were around my girlfriend's house!"

Skunk blanked out. "What?"

"You were around my girlfriend's house!"

"What? _That's_ who you think I am?! What do you mean, _what_ girl, what would I be around your girlfriend's house for?!"

Lamp's point got closer. "Because you wanted t-"

"Talk, _talk_ , talk _properly_!" Skunk shouted, slamming his right fist into his left palm. "Move your mouth when you talk, not your stupid stogie fingers!"

"What a good day," Tenma said, nodding slowly in satisfaction. The guard to his left didn't look up, but still hid a smirk.

Lamp hurled his linen to the ground like a football, shouting over Skunk, "Because you wanted to have sex with her!"

"What, with some rhinoceros with stumpy-ass fingers?"

"You-!"

"Your girlfriend," Skunk shouted back, "Is a musty corpse!"

Lamp was practically frothing at the mouth. "Cheeky bastard!"

"Call for backup," one guard said to the other.

Tenma nodded with them, quickly adding, "Call my worker, too."

"It's like knocking one out into a mummy! No, no, it's like boning a box of saltines- No, it's like screwing a handful of sand! Ancient beast, she is!"

Lamp grabbed Skunk's shoulders, yelling, "I'm gonna rip you in half!"

Under a shower of men hooting and cheers, Skunk kicked back shouting, "Musty kitty!"

"Jackass!" The two hit the floor as Tenma's laughing and the medium level inmates' cheering increased in volume.

"Sandbeast!"

"Shitfaced punk!"

"Has Brendan Fraser got her yet?!"

The locker room door swung open, Nanora Inoue at the handle, poised like she was ready to jump into a mosh pit of snakes. She shouted into the room, "Umataro Tenma, are you ready for pick-up?!"

The fight stopped, with eighty-four sets of eyes staring in fear at the sole woman in the vicinity. Nanora stared back at eighty sets of other things, horrified, before her glance fell to the floor tiles with a face like she'd seen a dead bird. Panicked and naked inmates ducked out of the way, yelping, while Lamp tried to scramble off the floor, brushing back his hair.

"Young lady," he cooed.

"Report to examination room!" Nanora grabbed Tenma by the arms, fastening a pair of neocuffs on his wrists and pulling him out of the room. "Your weekly health exam is due!"

"Hey!" Skunk's eyes were wide, as he still lay flat on the floor. "Hey doc, you said it was a Taiwanese dude!"

While pulling Tenma along, Nanora kept running far up the hall, her gazelle-like legs carrying her far faster than he could catch up with. She soon enough heard the doctor's wheezing, and stopped, her hands hurrying to his upper arms, keeping him upright. They stood, mismatched, by a set of elevators to the upper health rooms.

"Doctor, are you okay?" Nanora was trying to contain her giggling. "I mean, aside from whatever that was?"

"Y...yes, I..." He held up one shaky hand, accidentally bringing up the other one cuffed to it. "It's...ah, d-don't smoke and drink like I do..."

"It's okay! Just breathe-!" Nanora tried to hold onto Tenma's shoulders to support him, but burst out laughing, her forehead falling against his chest. Tenma regained his ability to breathe, now fully comprehending the presence of the young woman holding onto him. He inhaled, taking it in; her laughter was contagious.

"I wish they told you what was going on in there," he said, forcing the smile off his face. Nanora shook her head from where it was.

"I've seen far worse..." Nanora looked back up. "At least none of those naked guys had drugs smuggled in their colon."

"There's only one way to find out."

Nanora laughed out loud again, a pleasant, ladylike frequency that put Tenma at ease. She stepped back, pushing her hair back over her shoulders.

"You're opening up," she said, beaming. "I'm so happy for you!"

 _Am I?_ Tenma shook his head gently, pretending he wasn't flattered. "I'm just pleased to know you've got an iron will."

"And you've got a psychophysical health test to do..." Nanora turned to the elevators, hitting the up button, the button's inner light almost as bright as her smile. "I'll escort you there. You'll be early, but that won't hurt anything."

Tenma stepped in with her, knowing she still had a stun capsule somewhere in her blazer. He was silent, examining Nanora carefully. She hadn't been this happy around him before. Her presence was more cathartic than ever before, and Tenma was a little frightened by this change in routine. But he still wanted to have her around to talk to; he trusted Nanora far more than anyone else in the prison he communicated with regularly.

"I have another meeting with my son today..." Tenma said quietly. "Are...are you able to be present?"

Nanora seemed to be watching the floor status lights change, like he was. "I'm not sure...I've got a meeting with another inmate that might run on too long."

"Are you sure?"

"Nothing's for sure. If I can come by, I will. I promise."

Tenma glanced at her, then back to the elevator's lit numbers. "All right. I...hope you can make it. He's a nice boy."

The doors slid open, facing one of the health rooms, where a small group of officers and inmates were bustling outside the room, likely having just finished a primary exam. One of the prison guards met Nanora at the door, nodding at her as she gestured for Tenma to leave the elevator. She turned back to the guard and said quickly, "He's early but I don't think he'll have to wait long."

The guard once more nodded stiffly. "I'll take him in, Inoue."

"Thank you, Walker."

Tenma watched Nanora press a button inside the elevator, feeling a little hurt as the doors began to close. He made eye contact with her, but jolted his gaze away, turning to the floor.

"I'll try and make it," she called out before the doors fully shut. "I promise!"

Inspector Tawashi stepped into the elevator car, stone-faced and locked in thought. He glanced back at Tenma and nodded; a simple gesture acknowledging the doctor.

The doors closed. Tenma almost felt a pang of jealousy as the inspector disappeared into the elevator with Nanora. Of course she wasn't able to go into a men's health room at her level, but Tenma craved her presence. Three one-hour meetings a week didn't feel like enough anymore, and it wasn't as if he could keep pulling her out of her office on command. Sure, Tenma still moved in and out of seeing her as a humanoid android, but he hadn't felt this comfortable talking to a human in years. He couldn't understand what had ignited this.

 _This better not be what I think it is,_ Tenma thought grudgingly, as the vice on his upper chest weighed down.

* * *

"Inoue."

Nanora had been anticipating this. "Yes, inspector?"

Tawashi didn't take his eyes off the elevator door, much like the woman to his left did. He said grimly, "I don't want to remind you again not to get that close to your client again."

"...How so?"

"Your encounter with Umataro Tenma outside the showers. That hall was _full_ of intercepting officers, Inoue. Don't assume you were invisible there."

Nanora's soul seemed to leave her body for a moment. She replied, "Consider the situation in terms of how I acted."

"If the council were to audit you, they'd look at that footage back there and call that a hug." Tawashi fiddled idly with the knot of his tie. "While these are entirely different men, nobody blames you for the Rock Incident-"

"It's too early to talk about Rock Holmes," Nanora forced out.

"Fine then." Tawashi's mouth felt bone dry; the urge for a smoke was tugging painfully now. "Just be glad one of the _stricter_ people out here didn't see you."

"You're acting like I did more than a hug." The elevator opened on floor three, but Nanora's feet remained grafted to the floor. Tawashi stepped out, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

"Yeah?" He stopped before heading off somewhere to a balcony. "Don't expect a warning if you two follow up on doing that _more_."

The doors slid shut. Nanora let the elevator begin moving again, and for the first time in two minutes, she moved; she kicked forward and sunk a stomp into the elevator door.

* * *

A meeting with Astro was far less painful the second time around. Even his sister seemed more comfortable than before. Maybe being placed in the general visits hall had made a change for the better. Uran had brought a colouring book, and the kids were discussing how to colour it, while Ochanomizu and Tenma poured over a newspaper.

"Uran, no, no..." Astro pointed worriedly at a pig that was quickly becoming coloured purple. "Pigs are supposed to be pink or brown."

Uran angrily covered the pig, "I already coloured the _car_ on the last page pink!"

"Maybe it's a robot pig!" Ochanomizu added. "Remember the ones we saw outside Tamusu?"

"Yeah! I'll colour this little one yellow, too, like that one I got to hold!" Uran switched crayons, thrilled.

Ochanomizu thumbed through the paper, his finger landing on an international science report; _Canadian Femdroid Attends Memorial for Creator_.

"It's such a shame, isn't it?" Ochanomizu said with a sigh, looking at the photo of a now-deceased researcher and his robotic girlfriend. "If anything good comes of this, perhaps it's more people realizing robots can feel sadness as strongly as we can."

Tenma put down his paper cup of coffee. "Does she inherit his estate? Or does it go to his sister?"

"The court's trying to make an equal share, but they're strongly on Aiko-08's side."

"I'm really glad to see you two talking on good terms," Astro interjected. "I don't think I've ever seen you do this!"

"Ochanomizu and I _were_ in the same university..." said Tenma proudly. "I was an undergraduate and him a graduate student. We were in the same research clubs, but I don't think we talked after graduation until...what was it, my Ministry orientation?"

"No, we ran into each other at Reiko Nakayama's party!" Ochanomizu snapped his fingers. "Remember the mini rocket I tried to launch?"

"Oh yes, and when it went through Reiko's ceiling-!" Tenma had to stop whatever he was saying, stopping himself from bursting out laughing at whatever they remembered.

"And she ran out to the lawn and comes back with Eric's back-up prosthetic leg, and then...!" Ochanomizu slid his hand like something moving super fast, but lost it; the men laughed together, Ochanomizu slapping his hand on the tabletop and Tenma just about throwing his head back.

Uran squirmed closer to Astro and whispered, "Old people are so weird."

"I don't know..." Astro looked back at her, a big, relieved smile on his face. "This is pretty nice."

"Yeah, but if only we weren't in a jail right now." Uran glanced behind herself, locking eyes with another visitor shovelling chips into her piercing-lined mouth. The girl glared back, and then returned to her colouring book.

Astro didn't notice in the slightest; seeing the doctors talking on good terms was so cathartic to see. Ochanomizu had told him about working with Tenma some years ago, up until things between them got tense after the...

_The truck accident._

Astro looked down at his hands. A pang of guilt hit him, even though he knew it wasn't his fault, nor Tobio's. It certainly wasn't something to bring up during the visit...everybody but Uran felt their share of responsibility for the accident. He thought, _I really need to think about anything_ _ **but**_ _that today._

"Ah?" Tenma noticed how worried Astro looked. "Is something wrong, Astro?"

The boy asked gingerly, "Doctor, do you want to go with me to the hall kitchen? I think I need more water for my cooling tank."

"I'd love to, but I can't..." Tenma quickly finished the last of his black coffee. "Once the visit starts, I'm not allowed to get up."

"Ah." Astro fiddled with one of the crayons. "A security measure, I guess?"

"Definitely. They come in and pull me back to my cell if I get up without warning."

"That's so weird," said Uran. Not that she minded.

"They also end the visit if the inmate has to use the bathroom, or kisses someone for too long," Ochanomizu added.

Uran returned to the colouring book. She had her eye on the doctors.

One of the young guards approached their table, a small envelope in hand. She stopped and ordered loudly, "Umataro Tenma?"

Tenma winced. "Present, yes?"

"A letter from your case worker." The guard handed it off to him and promptly departed. The envelope was powder pink, the envelope flap tucked into itself instead of sealed. Tenma gently pulled it open, hoping not to damage the frail paper, and found a handwritten note on rose print stationery:

_Dear Umataro,_

_I am unable to attend any unscheduled meetings for the rest of the week. I will be accessible through your Egg calling device if necessary._

_I will see you next Monday._

_From, N. Inoue_

Tenma irritatedly set the note down on the table, and Ochanomizu gave it a quick scan. He rubbed his chin, remarking, "What a shame. I'd have loved to have met Inoue today."

"Yeah!" Uran called out. "I can't hang out with guys all the time!"

"If you come back on Monday, she'll be here," Tenma said quietly. "She promised me she'd be here."

"Well, maybe she was just busy. You know how it is," Ochanomizu replied. Tenma gave the older doctor a glare; Ochanomizu shrugged back desperately, worried it had came off as a jab about Tobio.

Uran, while colouring a daisy green and brown, asked, "Is she your girlfriend?"

Astro gawked at Ochanomizu gawked at Tenma, who pretended to drink more of his coffee. "That's not something a child should ask."

Uran smirked, knowing, behind her colouring book.

"Time's up, groups A and C!" As an older woman's voice came over the P.A. system, four pairs of guards approached the occupied tables. Two came to Tenma and another two to Ochanomizu and the children. Tenma stood up and allowed himself to be cuffed.

Astro bowed politely. "I hope we can see you Monday, doctor!"

Ochanomizu bowed as well, his hand on Uran's back to motivate her to bow as well. He said, "I'll try and make an appointment in the afternoon!"

"I'll see you then." Tenma only nodded with a smile, masking his true disappointment. "Have a good day."

* * *

Come 10 PM, Tenma was still angry. Both at Nanora for not coming by, and angry at himself for assuming the worst. She _did_ have six other clients to work with. But he also couldn't grasp why he had put such high hopes into just seeing her for half an hour. He sat at his desk with his pipe, staring at Nanora's note.

 _Of course she'd use rose stationery,_ he thought. _It's so elegant. I almost expected she'd have teddy bears or something, but..._

Tenma stared at the invitation to contact her with the Egg. If he called her, it'd be what she expected and what he wanted. If he didn't call her, it'd make her wait. But there wasn't any practicality in that.

_You're just delaying calling her._

With a sigh, Tenma pressed the top of the Egg, navigated to the second preloaded number, and waited. He sat with his face in his hands as a peppy little wait tone played; Tenma felt like a hole was about to burn through his stomach. He reached over; maybe he could turn it o-

Nanora's voice filled the room. "Hello? Doctor, is that you?"

Tenma bolted upright. "Y-Yes. Your note said to call you, so..."

He looked up, finding she'd set her side to audio-only, with a small inset of himself showing how he looked on Nanora's end. She said excitedly, "Oh good! I'm so glad you did. I've got some things I need to tell you."

"Oh...like what?"

"Well, for one thing, this frequency is pretty much unmonitored by the prison's phone and internet. It's like Skype through an egg, but without the computer lag." She laughed at this, but stopped when Tenma didn't respond. "..So, ah, this is pretty safe."

"I see." Tenma paused. "How come you're only on audio?"

"I don't think you'd want to see me right now. I'm in pajamas. You just barely got in before I shut my receiver off."

"Nanora, you're acting like you're inside a dumpster." He folded his hands together, giving her a sheepish smile; he just didn't want her to talk down about herself.

"Well..."

The camera switched on. Nanora sat on the floor on the other end, surrounded by books and enormous fluffy pillows. Her long raven hair trailed down her shoulders in messy ribbons, where she wore an oversized dress shirt and cottony, skinny pants. Tenma's eyes widened, and Nanora noticed this right away.

"See?" She shrugged. "I look so unprofessional."

"You look adorable," Tenma said before he could stop the words. "I don't know what to say."

Nanora looked to the side, and then back to the camera, her face visibly flushing with colour. "Oh doctor, please. You're too kind."

"But I mean it." He didn't know what to do now that he'd gotten this far. "Er...what were you planning to tell me?"

"Tawashi saw me sort-of hug you in the hall, and warned me not to "get close to my client" again..." Nanora put her chin in her hand, disgusted. "Basically, he thinks one of us is using the other for unproductive means."

 _About that, er..._ Tenma sat up. "So what does this entail?"

"Nothing so far, but if we appear physically close again, Old Man Tawashi's gonna need a diaper change." She rolled her eyes.

Tenma folded his hands on his desk. This definitely added complications to the situation.

"Doctor, please, don't look so worried!" She looked back at the camera with a kind smile. "Tawashi's usually all talk, at least with his coworkers."

"I...I see."

The two were quiet for a moment; Tenma deep in thought, and Nanora studying the doctor carefully. She suddenly said, "I have a confession to make."

That got his attention. "What kind?"

Nanora stood up, leaving the view of the camera. A few seconds later, her hand and a photo appeared in front of the camera. It was a yearbook photo of a teenage girl, with moptop black and blue hair and a patch-dotted jean jacket. After a second, Nanora asked, "Is this girl familiar for you?"

"Yes...!" It took him a moment, but Tenma recognized her soon enough. "That was some girl I talked to for a school interview. Of course, I was a little abrasive, but-"

Nanora moved back into view, holding the photo next to her face. She smiled a little sheepishly, encouraging him to look back and forth.

_That heart-shaped face. That birthmark on her cheek. That hard-headed attitude._

_This isn't how I thought we'd meet again._

"A _little_ abrasive?" Nanora tucked the photo into an old album. "You were a real heartbreaker."

"Nanora, I can't believe...!" Tenma couldn't help but laugh behind the security of his hand. "I wondered what happened to that girl. I just can't believe she'd wind up being _my_ rehabilitation officer."

Nanora looked relieved but still rather embarrassed. "I didn't know how to tell you. I wasn't sure if you'd react badly or not."

"Not at all, look-" Tenma looked up pleadingly at the camera. "Nanora, I'm so sorry for how I treated you then. I was going through a divorce at the time. I kept bringing liquor into my office, and that's no excuse, but-"

"Thank you."

It was said so gently, but still matter-of-factly in her intent. Tenma locked eyes with Nanora through the hologram display, lament meeting docility. It felt for the both of them like an old wound was finally starting to close. Nanora only broke the gaze when she glanced over at a clock out of frame.

"Almost twenty minutes past lights-out..." She turned to Tenma. "I really don't want you to get in trouble."

"No, the volume's fine in here. If you need to go, you're free to."

"I don't want to, though."

They looked at each other awkwardly, desperate to find something to discuss, anything to keep the call going longer.

"When will I see you in person again?" Tenma asked breathlessly.

"Monday, eleven in the morning. But I'm free to call from 10 to 10 each day." Nanora gathered up some books that had been splayed out beside her. She glanced up, adding,"I'll try and make it up to you then."

"Your presence is enough," he sighed. "You don't owe me anything else."

Nanora laughed, "Well, I meant I'd bring a board game or something! But still, thank you."

Tenma's hand slowly, and hesitantly, moved towards the Egg's top button. He breathed in, then out, and finally said, "I guess I ought to hang up."

"You look so sad."

Tenma looked to the floor of his cell, not sure what to say.

"Doctor, please, you can call me tomorrow! It's not forever." Nanora's face looked so sweet at that moment.

"Yeah...good point." He was about to press it, but stopped. "By the way, your note...how come you called me Umataro? It's a village boy's name."

Nanora laughed again – a chuckle _-_ and said, "But I _like_ your name! I don't encounter it often."

"Then...could you...call me that more?" Tenma looked away again, pretending his face wasn't becoming as flushed as Nanora's. The woman nodded approvingly.

"Good night, _Umataro_."

His heart throbbed.

He looked back to the hologram to try and reply, but he caught Nanora grinning as she shut off her receiver. The hologram blinked blue and dissipated into the air. Tenma sat stunned for a moment, taking what felt like half an hour to catch his breath. He had been in vidcom calls with nationals, ex-KGB scientists, and the entire board of directors of steel mills, and none of them had been nearly as overwhelming as that one short call to a lone woman.

Saturday afternoon couldn't come soon enough. Hell, Monday morning felt like a thousand years away. Tenma forced himself to stand up and walk to his cot, the whole time, feeling like he was walking on air. An old song came back to him, and he gently hummed along with it.

_When can I see you, why must I wait so long..._

Tenma took off his shoes, pulled his cot blanket over himself, and tried to lie back and slow his heart rate.

_Want you to be near me, 'cause baby, without you, I just can't go on..._


	7. Looking For Clues

"...They were absolutely ready to charge me for an industrial stray paint stripping, until I went up and wiped the statue's makeup off." Nanora rolled her eyes. "I'll never forget the look on our R.A.'s face."

Tenma chuckled, pulling back from his pipe, and said, "You certainly seem like you were quite a delinquent in school."

"Well, I'd say art students and sociology students don't mix well. You should hear about when we blasted Prince over the stadium's stereo system."

"I don't entirely know if I want to hear that."

"Are you sure? It's the best university story I've got."

The weekend had been rather routine – outdoor periods, laundry, psychologist appointments, all the usual meals – but evening calls with Nanora made everything worthwhile. That night had been spent just asking Nanora about her day. Something was so cathartic about hearing about the outside world, even if it were just Nanora's small stories about shopping or meetings. Nanora's room looked so clean and soft from what Tenma could see, and she played Selena Quintanilla on her end; he somehow imagined the room had the faint scent of lilac.

"Well, it's too long a story, anyway," Nanora replied. "Maybe when you're out, in some time, I can sit you down and tell it."

Tenma took a breath, and then glanced away. "How...long do you think I've got left in here...?"

"Oh! Uh..." Nanora looked shocked to hear the question at first, but paused to consider it. "I think...a month or two. But you'd still have at least a year of house arrest afterwards."

"A year..." He sighed white smoke.

"Everything's tentative!" The young woman immediately tried to bring Tenma's mood back up. "Your best bet right now is, yet again, good behaviour."

Tenma felt like he had resigned himself to being trapped in this facility. He wanted out, but even then, what would he do out there? Stare at his son in the Ministry through binoculars, and ply himself with wine until he couldn't walk? At least in here, there were things to occupy himself with, and people to put his thoughts at ease.

"You know, Nanora..." He looked up at the camera, just a bit sly. "...I could be in here for the rest of my life, but if I had you to talk to, it'd all be worthwhile."

Nanora's eyes seemed to sparkle. She asked with a smile, "But I wouldn't be a very good rehabilitation worker if you were here forever, would I?"

"Good point, my dear," he said with a chuckle, setting his pipe down next to the old tin. Calling her something like that was as far as either of them could go. Nobody wanted to address the monumental elephant in the room.

A guarding officer knocked on Tenma's cell door, plowing against it with a clenched fist, shouting, "Lights out! Turn off the Selena!"

"Has it been three hours already...?" Tenma turned back got ready to shut off the Egg. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, then."

"Goodnight, Umataro."

"I said turn it off!" The man in the hall shouted back.

The Egg shut off, and the cell filled with silence yet again. Tenma stumbled to the side of his cot, stood over it for a moment, and then collapsed onto it on his side.

He didn't like what he was starting to feel inside himself again.

* * *

Tenma dreamt he was in his old laboratory at the Ministry. The atmosphere had been pleasant, initially; he felt younger, and it was incredibly cathartic to see the blue glow from the night sky beaming in through the skylight above the development table, glowing among all the now-vintage equipment. Dusty CPU tracking monitors beside the labcoat rack, a bulky conversion chamber, a trash can stuffed with empty ramen cups. It felt almost more like home than Tenma's own house.

He couldn't recall what he had been doing in this dream; something to do with paperwork. Someone's soft footsteps slowly tapped closer into the room, and without looking, Tenma called out, "I'm closed for appointments. Come back tomorrow."

"Father."

The voice was cold and calm, monotone. The default, unprocessed adult voice for service androids. Tenma had heard it plenty of times, but hearing it speak the word he just heard forced Tenma to turn around, a chill running up his back.

Across the room, an android child – devoid of a finished outer casing, its mechanic design primitive – stood in the blue-lit doorway. It attempted to walk forward on jointless legs, toddling like a bony, wiry penguin. As it did, it spoke, "Father. What have you done."

"Father?" He tried to scoff back, voice wavering. "You don't look anything like my sons."

"Of course I do not." The robot continued. "I have died twice. Both times it has been at your hands."

Tenma went silent. The robot's clinking toddling was quickly turning from pathetic to incredibly disturbing.

"Why will you force me from staying dead. Look at me." It slowly outputted. "I cannot pass as human nor robot. Why must I be forced to live on."

"D-Don't-" The robot still remained several metres away from Tenma, but the man still pushed himself up against the development table, eyes searching the room for another door out. His stomach churned hard as the stiff little robot gawked at him from across the room.

"Why am I not allowed to rest." The robot's mouth still didn't move. "How many times must you torture me like this."

Tenma woke up, breathless, acid burning at the back of his throat. He scrambled off his cot as fast as he could, but still fell onto the floor in a heap, gagging on bile and weeping until the sound of guards heading up the hall echoed closer to his cell.

He couldn't believe, of all the things he could've worried about, how much he didn't want Nanora or Astro to see him in that state.

* * *

Nanora's meeting was at exactly eleven in a little furnished room, once again. As usual, security cameras dotted the corners and ceiling, like animals peeking out from the brush of a forest's edge. The taste of illness still faintly stung Tenma's throat, but by all accounts, he had restored himself almost perfectly.

"You are allowed to move during this period," a security officer recited, as usual. "But you are under strict supervision, and your case worker will be armed with a tazing device."

"I understand." Tenma only nodded, as usual. Feeling overheated, he rolled up his sleeves to his mid-forearm. Across the room, the door clicked open with Nanora at the handle, and she and the security officer saluted silently at each other, as they began to trade places. She had a large cloth bag with her.

Tenma glanced up to see her, and something felt so surreal; the prison-ready Nanora and the gentle Eggcom Nanora didn't seem to match up as the same woman. She stood beside the couch, sheepish, but ready for the period ahead. Tenma tried to pretend he wasn't feeling the exact same.

"Well!" She began to say, that soft smile returning. "How's your weekend been?"

Tenma smugly said,"Fantastic. A gorgeous woman kept calling my cell."

Nanora crossed her arms, with a bit of a pout. "Hey now, _you're_ the one who called me!"

"So you don't object to the "gorgeous" part?" Tenma paused the ego trip. "...Do they monitor audio in here?"

Nanora sat at the opposite couch. "No, just video. Audio is up to me to moderate."

"I see..." Tenma rubbed his chin idly. "...What's the agenda?"

"The usual check-up and some updates on your prison status." Nanora pulled out a tablet and made a few touches. "I'm interested in how your part-time work in the prison is helping your mental health."

"Well, I thought it was working for me, but I guess not. I assume you saw the incident report?"

"Oh, the, I know..." Nanora sat forward. "Are you okay? I read your doctor's analysis of the dream."

"I'll be fine. I'd just like to talk about anything else."

Nanora looked at him with concern for a moment. She asked quietly, "...Do you need a hug?"

"Nanora, I am almost _fifty_ ," he complained loudly, looking away from her. The two were silent, the only sound in the room being Nanora shuffling her papers. It was a good moment before she finally spoke.

"I think we made a mistake with the Eggcom," she said, her voice confident in its dismay. "We bonded too quickly in an unprofessional way that may halt your progress."

Tenma sat back. "You mean, we wound up flirting and here we are."

"Absolutely." Nanora sighed, her face falling into her hand. "Ugh, at least I didn't develop any crushes during the Rock Holmes incident."

Tenma's eyes widened. "Crush? You mean..."

"Yes."

"So this is..."

"Mutual...? I assume."

Tenma's face flooded with colour. "Oh my."

"I know. Tawashi's going to kill me."

"Hand me that table," Tenma said gesturing to an end table at the doorway, and then to one of the windows. "And I'll account for myself."

Nanora looked disgusted. "Doctor, no making jokes about killing yourself! It bothers me. Especially since I've been kept informed about _other_ offshoot remarks about offing yourself you've made."

"I...I was kidding."

"Kidding, when you fully intended a year ago to blow yourself up?" Nanora sat forward, serious, her hands folded together. "A regular person doesn't joke about themselves dying. There's deep psychological roots to a remark like that. I want you to realize that people want you to live. _You_ should want to live."

Tenma sighed. "It'll...take some time."

"That's why I'm here." Nanora began to look less angry. "In four months, you've become more confident and less inclined towards harmful behaviour. Neither of us can give up yet."

Tenma only nodded. Nanora suddenly became excited and pulled out a few papers, placing them on the little table between them.

"Especially when you've been approved for release under home arrest in six to eight weeks. You'll be only allowed in your loft, of course..." Nanora opened something on her tablet. "You don't even need to wear a giant ankle bracelet! There will be an alarm barrier that detects your physical stats if you cross it."

"So I get to be _The Boy in the Bubble_."

"But you don't need to wear that ankle bracelet," Nanora beamed. Tenma finally relaxed, laughing at this, and he leaned forward in his seat.

"No wonder I've made so much progress," he said with a sigh. "You're an angel."

"You give me too much credit! You had the power to help yourself, too." Nanora looked up at him slyly. "But _still_ , thank you."

Tenma looked to the side. "Well...this appointment has _already_ been quite a roller coaster."

The two were silent again. Neither of them liked the pause. When any business or prison matters were stripped away, Tenma and Nanora only had – as Tenma would put it – informalities between them to discuss. He could see a longer sentence and the poor woman could lose her job if they so much as made eye contact too l-

Something gently hit his foot. Tenma snapped out of his stupor, looking down cautiously, only to find Nanora nudging him with her foot.

"Nanora, careful," he sighed.

"You looked like you were falling asleep, Umataro." She had a knowing smirk.

"Halt the meeting. Stop." Tenma put his hands up in the formation of a T. "Pull the brakes while we still can."

"Definitely." Nanora stood up, adding a prim nod. She pressed something on her tablet. "Meeting adjourned. I'll see you at your family's visit today."

"My...oh!" Tenma had almost forgotten about it. He could hear escorting officers enter the room behind him, but their boot-clad stampede meant nothing to him as he watched Nanora delicately leave the room. She gave Tenma a quick wave and a smile as an officer opened the door for her, and he could have sworn he went light-headed.

 _I'm in love,_ Tenma thought with a sigh, as officers pulled him off the couch by his arms.

* * *

The group met again in the general visits hall, with Astro insisting they had to arrive precisely at noon. The boy led Dr. Ochanomizu and Uran through the visitor doors, almost surprised to see Tenma already seated at one of the north tables. Ochanomizu stopped to fill out a permissions form with the visits hall supervisor, and Astro and Uran stood by and studied Tenma's table. One monitoring guard was briefing Tenma on visitation rules.

"Do they make the cops tell him that every time?" Uran whispered.

Astro nodded firmly. "They make the doctor fill out a form every time, too. It's just business as usual."

"Business as usual..." Uran thought on it. "I don't ever wanna get so staunch and boring."

Ochanomizu left the visits hall counter, gently taking either child by the shoulder. "Come along now, I'm sure there's lots to do today!"

"Yeah, like looking at chewing gum under the tables."

" _Uran_!"

When they reached the table, Tenma almost seemed timid in the way he was so quiet. He looked up and gave the three a small smile, recognizing their presence. Some door closed near their table and none of them seemed to notice.

"Tenma, my friend, are you all right?" Ochanomizu quickly took a seat. "You look exhausted."

"I've just not been sleeping well," Tenma mumbled absentmindedly, putting a thumb to his chin. The nightmare was still looming over him, and he especially didn't want Ochanomizu to know about it.

"Oh dear. I hope you'll be better soon. I did bring something that I thought would cheer you up..." Ochanomizu reached into his suit jacket pocket, pulling out an aluminium packet with a warden's approval sticker slapped on it. "Freeze-dried ice cream! We picked some up at the Mars trade station when we were out there."

Tenma took the packet, surprised, turning it over in his hands. He sputtered, "Well, thank you! How did you know I liked mint chocolate?"

"I called your case worker to check, and she said that was your favourite." Ochanomizu gave a gentle shrug. Tenma resisted sinking his face into his hands in embarrassment.

Movement came from his side. "Is that my cue?"

Nanora sat down beside Tenma at the table, setting down a stuffed cloth bag on the tabletop before her. She held out a hand to Ochanomizu, adding, "Professor, it's nice to meet you in person! I'm Nanora Inoue."

Uran grabbed Nanora's hand instead, the girl jumping up on her seat to give Nanora a strong, two-handed shake. She shouted enthusiastically, "Nice to meet you! Nice to meet you!"

"O-Oh! Uh, you too!" Nanora seemed relieved when Uran let go, albeit due to Ochanomizu having to pull her back. Nanora did laugh, "I didn't expect such a warm welcome!"

Astro bowed politely in his seat. "It _is_ nice to meet you, Ms. Inoue."

"You too, Astro." Nanora rubbed the quickly-aching shoulder of the arm Uran had just cranked. "I've heard all about your adventures."

"I imagine I'd be rather spoken-of in a place like this..." Astro looked around the visitation hall carefully. He turned back, adding, "At least our group will be safe if people know I'm here."

Tenma nodded at this. He was proud of how well-spoken the boy had become. Tobio had spoken carefully too, but not the same way; he had been mindful of his words out of what always seemed to be anxiety. At that moment, Tenma got a little bolt of realization that Astro was far and beyond a simple clone now.

"I thought you guys might want to play some board games to break the ice..." Nanora unsheathed boxes of Candyland and Hungry Hungry Hippos from the cloth bag. "...This is totally optional, though."

"Maybe later," Tenma said quietly. "I'm maybe too old for this."

"I wouldn't mind playing a game with everyone, Tenma," Ochanomizu said reassuringly.

"Yes, but you're actually raising kids. You'd of course be more suited for this."

"No, I mean, I'm 63, in contrast to your 51."

" _I'm 48!_ "

Ochanomizu tried to say, "I _mean_ , if someone my age would want to play this game, then someone younger than me shouldn't feel-"

" _Yes_ , and we're _both_ older than the _age of ten_!"

Nanora reached over and tugged at Tenma's jumpsuit collar. "You stop that! He means well, Umataro!"

"I-Inoue!" Tenma turned to her, dismayed. "I was just trying to make myself clear-"

"You can do that without going for the jugular!"

It was a mild but harmless argument, and Uran watched the two with a big grin on her face. Something about watching this woman tame such a dangerous person put her at ease. Uran shuffled closer to Astro, finally beginning to feel comfortable.

"Fine, fine, I'm sorry, Ochanomizu." Tenma looked deflated in his seat.

"Very much accepted, my friend. Please, let's share stories!" Ochanomizu put a hand on Astro's shoulder. "I know Astro certainly has one to tell us."

The boy nodded. "I've been offered a chance to speak at the opening ceremony for the new Earth habitat dome project! It's opening in eight weeks, and the dome even has a mall, a school, and a functioning weather system."

"That's amazing!" Tenma said, his pride genuine. "Would you be living there at all?"

"I don't think I'd want to." Astro shook his head. "The Mars outback is still pretty dangerous. The dome's going to have a lot of security."

"Weren't _you_ some of that danger on Mars?" Uran blurted out at Tenma, before anyone had a chance to say something.

"U-Uran!"

"No, I wanna hear about it! You guys wouldn't even let me go with you to Mars."

"We had the Blue Knight, Hamegg, and robot traffickers to deal with! It was too dangerous!"

Tenma looked up, curious. "Hamegg? Oh, he's in here, too."

"Where?!" Astro spun around, horrified.

"Somewhere in the middle levels. I've heard from others that he has a reputation for ogling the prison nurses."

Nanora leaned forward, adding, "Oh yeah. I forget the nurse's name, but she brought him in for a check-up. He tried something, and she hit him with a clipboard. And then she had to keep examining him for the face injury!"

"I wouldn't put it past a man like that," Tenma groaned. "I happened to be in his Mars headquarters, and he'd taped a calendar's worth of pinups in the break r-"

"I don't think this is entirely child friendly," Ochanomizu interrupted with a cautious edge to his voice. Uran, meanwhile, was absorbing everything around her, overjoyed that there was finally another female at what was usually a boring and creepy prison visit.

"I like your hair, Ms. Inoue," she added suddenly.

"Oh! Thank you!" Nanora replied. She said it with a small nod that Tenma privately regarded as adorable.

"The professor says he'll only build me long hair when I turn 10." Uran played with her fingers on the tabletop. "I only get to brush my human friends's long hair for now."

"It's because you might get it tangled easily," Astro said. "You're always climbing and jumping around."

"B-But it doesn't need to be made out of like, stuff kinda like real hair!" Uran reached over and poked at one of the spikes on Astro's head. "These are made of thick rubber an' metal!"

"Hardened PVC with a matte finish over interior metal reinforcements," Tenma said proudly. "But still, perhaps, listen to Ochanomizu. I know my hair got tangled too easily when I was a child."

Ochanomizu looked surprised."That must've been why you always hotcombed it when we were in school!"

"Well, not really...I...I was going through a moody phase."

Uran called out, "You mean it ended?"

"Ah yes, and I remember I tried bleaching my hair," Ochanomizu pondered for a second. A smile broke out on his face. "If only I knew I just needed to wait a decade or two!"

Nanora sat back, pleased, watching the four at the table finally start to converse like normal people. It was odd seeing Tenma be so interactive with someone other than her, but Nanora knew this was wonderful progress. Uran was currently describing a robot bird.

 _I'll just stay the moderator and steer things if I need to_ , she thought, chin in her hand as she intently watched the four.

They wound up not even needing the board games that day.

* * *

Nanora and the accompaniment officers were silent as they walked Tenma back to his cell, a silence that brought more relief than Nanora would have expected. She was still feeling great joy over Tenma's behaviour at the meeting, and it was time for the next step. _Remind the client that their behavioural change is an excellent improvement,_ an old textbook passage rung in her head. _Encourage them to continue this development._

"You were excellent at that visit, Umataro," she said after a moment. "You were expressive and spent the hour positively! I'm really glad for you."

"I see," Tenma muttered.

Nanora didn't like the hesitation. Concerned, she asked, "Is something wrong?"

"...I'm just embarrassed about snapping. About the game, you see," Tenma grumbled, his eyes meeting Nanora's only briefly. "I feel like I'll be thinking about it all night."

"That happened, yes, but you spent the rest of the hour talking with them! You were excellent, and we all had a good time!" Nanora held up her hands. "You made up for it in spades. You were good."

They reached Tenma's cell, and soon enough, Tenma was unceremoniously uncuffed and dropped off inside. Nanora gave a quick wave to the officers, indicating she wanted to step inside for a word. They nodded, shifting in preparation to stand before the cell door. Tenma almost looked concerned as he watched the younger woman shuffle in behind the closing iron door.

"What's this about?" he asked, tense. Being alone with this woman was the last thing he wanted. He thought it was made clear at that morning's appointment.

Nanora adjusted her necklace, fidgeting. "You normally like talking with me in here, so I thought..."

"I don't know. I think I've talked myself out for today." Tenma could feel his face heating up, and he knew it was visible.

Nanora did note this, and she awkwardly tried to focus on something else in the room. "I-I'm glad. Social interaction is important."

They were face to face. Almost in sync, they looked at the cell door; no uniformed faces were looking through the bars. Yet.

"Would they hear, you think?" Nanora asked in a whisper quieter than any Tenma had ever heard.

"Hear what?" Tenma couldn't match the volume. Damn. "Hear, I've heard about the new Mars dome, but nothing about the moon so far."

"I think they're rebuilding that one," Nanora followed up. She froze, braced herself, and then moved in for a hug.

Tenma didn't understand what was going on, at first. He had flinched when she began to move at him, but that was almost a reflex at this point in his life. Nanora was soft. His arms hung limply at his sides while she stood there, her arms around him, her face lined with jet black ribbons of hair briefly pressing against his chest.

Nanora stepped back, less anxious now, and nodded at him kindly. She said softly, "You've improved so much. I'm proud of you."

No substance in the world, legal or otherwise, could match the shot of ease and peace that flowed through Tenma at that moment. He breathed, "Thank you."

"I suppose I'll see you on Friday, but you can call me for any further counselling." Nanora hoped he'd take the hint to call her so she could discuss movies she'd seen lately.

"Well, I'll try..." Tenma put on a slick, smooth tone. "Will you be bringing dinner?"

"Time's up," someone shouted out from outside the door. "Inoue, let's go!"

"All right!" Nanora hurried to the now-opening cell door. She turned back at the doorway and gave Tenma a quick, prim bow. "Have a good day, Umataro!"

"You too, Inoue," he called out as she hurried, beaming, up the corridor. The cell door slammed shut behind the officers, but Tenma didn't think of it at all. There was a familiar weight in the centre of his chest; he breathed in around this, and could only breathe out in a wistful sigh. He would've been normally embarrassed by this. The day had become so much better than he had expected.

Tenma sat down at his desk, putting his hand to his face and keeping it there. He didn't know how to describe what he felt, and became preoccupied with a way to explain it. _A feeling of...of being made of stars? No, no, that sounds too childish..._

He sat there for likely just five minutes, but it felt like hours, locked in his thoughts. Friday wouldn't come fast enough. And that next meeting with Astro felt like years away.


	8. Where Can It Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Holy hell, it's been almost two years since a proper update! I am SO sorry...I never wanted to abandon this story, but right when I was trying to work on chapter eight in early 2016, I fell into fandom discourse that left a bad taste in my mouth. Rather than letting it stain the next installment, I decided to just put it on the back burner until I was feeling better. And that time is finally here, so let's go!

The former Tenma Manor was a mess. One side was still a mess of shattered stones and drywall, stained by rain and the elements, and the other side was a weed-tangled unkempt mess that brought to mind images of haunted houses. The lawn was ruined in patches from where Lamp's industrial mecha had taken steps; these patches had turned into mud dy rainwater -filled holes of scorched earth. Police tape outlined so many areas of Tenma's house and garden, with ends of the tape becoming loose and waving in the breeze. that they almost looked like discarded party banners.

Inspector Tawashi led a small police group up the crumbling stone path. Nanora Inoue followed, stone-faced and alert, an equipment robot at her side. The police had been getting reports of delinquency within the fence of Tenma Manor, and Tawashi had quietly invited Nanora along to study the building remnants.

Tawashi stopped suddenly, catching sight of a piece of graffiti on one of the standing walls. “ KAFFY” had been emblazoned in bright green spray paint. Tawashi clicked his tongue in disgust.

“At least we know it's just some punks,” he grunted. “I'm not ready to deal with _another_ person with a bone to pick with Tenma.”

“I've been hearing about young people picking the manor as the latest urban exploration location,” Nanora added. She'd heard stories from one of her younger clients.

“Then these kids oughta enjoy exploring a jail cell...” Tawashi hissed. He waved one hand, gesturing for the group to keep looking around.

They entered the former living room, utility robots and humans alike both glad to find the room empty. Nanora took notice of some shattered photo frames on the ground around the mantle, and gingerly stepped forward. The rest of Tawashi's group begun to move through the room towards the kitchen doorway, but Tawashi stood still, expectantly watching Nanora.

Nanora knelt down to study a few of the frames, but stood up with a jolt; she had nearly let her knee sink into a shard of glass. Thanking herself for wearing jeans that day, she begun to kneel down again, but far more apprehensive. The pictures had either fallen from the tremors of Lamp's robot, or – what she most suspected – from someone throwing them down from the wall.

She picked a smaller portrait frame up, looking into it initially with fondness. It was a portrait of Tenma and Tobio, the latter clad in a little leagues uniform, standing outside of a baseball park. She started to smile at the image, but a cold, creeping realization sunk in.

The boy's hair wasn't soft and brown, it was black and metallic. The rest of the photo looked to be from at least five years ago, a solid two years before Astro was even built.

Her eyes strained to examine the blackness of the boy's hair. It wasn't entirely natural with the rest of the photo; it matched the lights and darks around it, but  _too_ well. It was obviously painted in digitally.

Nanora stared down at the rest of the photos on the ground. They all had the same editing. Human child, black pointed hair. There was nobody who could've done this but--

“Tenma used those as props,” Tawashi said suddenly, stepping over to Nanora's side. “When he more or less abducted Astro. Advanced gas-lighting techniques.”

Nanora's eyes were wide, her words stuck in her throat. The frame tumbled from her hand and she forced herself to stand up. She turned to look at Tawashi, finding his expression concerned but disgusted.

He nodded. “I wanted you to see this for yourself, so you can realize what you're working with.”

“The...” Nanora stepped away from the frames, tense. “The doctor's not like this anymore.”

“If your therapy and the prison treatment are actually working, then he _should_ be.” Tawashi walked briskly towards the kitchen doorway. He shook his head, hissing, “This is one of the creepiest damn cases I've ever been on.”

“I don't...I don't blame you,” Nanora sputtered, changing gears mid-sentence.

She followed wordlessly after him. She noticed her shaky hands and realized how startled she really was. The equipment robot she had come in with tottered back up to her side, and she was relieved to have its presence again.

“Wh...where are we now?” she asked the robot.

“We are heading to the upper floor,” it recited, its calm demeanor pre-programmed but soothing. “We did not determine anyone in the basement nor the rest of the ground level.”

“All right.” Nanora nodded and continued forward. She was thankful to not be going into the basement.

Nanora had an appointment with Tenma the next morning. She could already tell it was going to be stupendously tense, at least on her end.

 

***

 

Friday morning came, and so did the last visitation days of the month. Nanora had come down to the general visitation hall once more, walking alongside two prison guards and one of her medium security cases. He had always insisted Nanora call him “Nooj”, but she couldn't manage anything less formal than “Mr. Nujowitz”.

“You must be excited, Mr. Nujowitz!” She said warmly, looking over at him from around one of the guards. “I've heard you've been talking about this all week!”

“Yeah!” The stout, usually irate man was overjoyed that day. “I haven't seen mom in person in a couple a' years!”

“Has she been to Metro City before?”

“Nah, but she's gonna join a tour group...!” His smile couldn't get any bigger. “God, someday I wanna show her around town myself!”

“That's good!” Nanora added. “That's definitely something to look forward to!”

Nanora was almost surprised upon seeing the Mother Nujowitz in the visitation hall. Here was the mother of one of the central members of the Skunk Kusai Group, one of the most rash and infamous criminal groups in Metro City: a small, plump Polish woman with a prim curled bob and a maroon pantsuit. She sat orderly at the designated table, natural and pleasant, as if she had been plunked into her seat by nature. “Nooj” had to be slowed down on his way to the table before he was finally allowed to sit down.

“Mom!” He yelped. “It's been a while, eh?!”

“Don't you be so casual, _bubbala_ , you know I worry so much about you!” But she was still clearly happy to see him.

One of Nanora's favourite parts of her job was the family reunions on the way to recovery. The thought of Tenma intruded on her thoughts. She was due to see him immediately after this, and she suddenly wasn't sure if she was ready. The week building up to Friday had been so achingly lonesome right up until the exploration of Tenma Manor. She forced herself to focus on the words _“Tenma is better now”_ over and over, like a mantra, to try and calm down sufficiently.

“And who is _this_?” Mrs. Nujowitz suddenly asked, ecstatic. Nanora turned on her heel and immediately assumed her professional stance.

“Hi there! I'm Nanora Inoue, your son's case worker!” She gave a small bow; the woman was foreign, but it couldn't hurt to be polite with her own culture's manners. “I've been working with Nathan for three months now.”

“How nice, how nice, and it looks like you're doing well!” Mrs. Nujowitz turned back to the inmate. “This boy's finally sitting up straight like a human being!”

“Ma, I'm 34!”

“That's why I say “finally”!”

Nooj groaned loudly but theatrically. Mrs. Nujowitz went about pulling something from her purse, and the standing guards leaned forward in anticipation. She brought out a little plastic packet with something inside, the contents obscured by the warden approval sticker.

“I went to visit your uncle after he got that bionic arm put in...” She put the packet in her son's hands. “It's a little bit of protection for you. Just in case, you know!”

“Yeah, I know...!” He seemed to smile at this. He gave the packet a lookover and then smugly flipped it over to Nanora; it was a little metal hamsa, handpainted and hanging on a dark blue cord. She nodded at this fondly.

“Aw geez, thanks ma!” Nooj began opening it, and immediately hung the charm around his neck. “It's gonna make Skunk an' Kuma jealous, though!”

“Speaking of, how are those _shvitzers_?”

“Just fine, ma. Skunk's been hangin' around the prison library and Kuma keeps gettin' mad that they won't let him wear his sunglasses.

“I need to cook for all three of you when you're out, all right?”

“Hey, hey, I know!” Nooj laughed, happier than Nanora had seen him in a while. “I'll call ya when we're all out!”

Nanora watched the two of them talk, letting their happiness crash over her like a wave. She deeply hoped Tenma would make a come-around this noticeable soon enough.

 

***

 

For Umataro Tenma, the day had taken decades just to get to 12:00 PM. He felt starved for real life contact with Nanora, and had been going through every prison chore and appointment as well as he could, knowing she would at least be around in the end.

The guards didn't feel like they were dragging Tenma to the meeting room this time. He walked strongly and steadily, back straight, and a smug look with what could possibly be hope in his eyes. It was a relief for all of them; the escorting no longer felt like a hassle or a big production.

They entered the meeting room, where Nanora stood at attention beside one of the couches – pink blazer and shoes, with white slacks and dress shirt, almost reminding Tenma of a candy cane – gripping a clipboard with both hands. She nodded formally at the guards, and watched as Tenma was promptly deposited on the couch. Tenma couldn't help but notice how stiffly Nanora seemed to move as she watched the guards leave, and then shuffled to take a seat.

Nanora shuffled through her satchel, pulled out a small collections of forms, and then finally looked up at Tenma. She nodded curtly, saying softly, “Good afternoon.”

“Afternoon,” Tenma drawled, giving it just the slightest purr. “I've been absolutely dying to see you, Nanora.”

She smiled, nervous and stiff. Tenma felt almost a cold chill run through his chest; Nanora immediately realized her apprehension had been too obvious, and she sighed, her shoulders rising and falling with the breath.

“Doctor, we've been talking for almost a year now, and I won't lie to you...” Nanora finally looked up, matching with Tenma's eyes. “...I was part of a search team that inspected your old manor today.”

Tenma seemed to deflate before her very eyes, his smile falling; the creases on his face framed his worried eyes and frown, waiting for whatever else Nanora was going to say. His mind ran feverishly with the possibilities.

“The...the picture frames on th--”

“O _h,_ ” Tenma groaned. He doubled over like he'd been punched in the stomach, his face falling to his hands. The now-alarmed Nanora leaned forward, her hands before her, preparing to move around the table and bring Tenma in for a reassuring hug, but she was relieved to see he was only massaging his temples.

“...What was _wrong_ with me...?” Tenma groaned under his breath. “...What was I _thinking_...?”

Nanora sunk back into the opposite couch, still holding her hands out. She almost babbled, “Y-You regret it.”

“Well _of course_ I would!” Tenma snapped, looking up at her with a glare. “Everything I did pre-treatment is a nightmare!”

“Umataro, no! You've come so far!” Nanora leaned in, wide albeit nervous smile across her face. “You're far, far more aware of morality in your actions now!”

Tenma gaped back, almost confused. He looked away, murmuring, “I...I suppose.”

“Don't you think that's a good thing?” Nanora stifled a laugh; the doctor almost seemed like a bashful little boy in that moment. “I must say, I'm very proud of you. I didn't know how you'd react if I brought up the pictures.”

Tenma didn't respond, staying deep in thought. She was right; all the things he'd done in the past – manipulating his own son, the enormous waste of energy and robots on destructive schemes, funding a  _war_ – now terribly stung to remember. Had he even realized he'd changed his mind?

Of course not, Tenma realized. He hadn't had other people to talk to and help process his thoughts. When he was living alone, he only had himself or Shadow, a portion of his  _own_ mind, to talk to. It had been like living in a dirty, unfiltered fish tank, doomed to swim in circles until he either gave up or the filth around him finally killed him.

“Are you okay?” Nanora asked softly.

“Yes,” he breathed, equally soft. They looked at each other for a long moment, Tenma's eyes embarrassed but Nanora's enthused. He sputtered, “I-I guess you got a look at the kind of person I was.”

“I did,” Nanora shrugged, “But it helps me put your progress in perspective. And, not to be too harsh, but one of the hardest things to get past was your ego.”

Tenma chuckled. “Oh, I can believe that.”

“Now, how have you been doing?” Nanora asked. “I know it's been a while since we met!”

“Oh, things in prison have been the usual, very normal and orderly...” Tenma sat back. “...And I'm still absolutely smitten, if I might say.”

“You may,” Nanora replied, sly. “But I think we should maintain a professional relationship until further notice.”

“Ah. Good idea.”

“I only have one more piece of bad news until we can really get into talking...” Nanora grabbed a form and observed it, trying to catch all the keywords as quickly as possible. “The council's still discussing your reintegration into Metro City. They're tied between relocating your loft, or giving you back the loft with a tighter power intake maximum. Basically, it's at a crossroads right now, but still coming down the road. _Some_ time.”

Tenma nodded in annoyance. “It's good to see bureaucrats haven't changed while I've been in here...”

“But, onto the good news...” Nanora put the papers aside and looked up, beaming with excitement. “There's a new series of inmate craft classes coming up! I sat in on a previous series, and they're a lot of fun. I think you'd like it, unless weaving and clay are _too_ cute for a man of your status!”

“I'm sure I could take it,” Tenma said with a smile. “I don't feel like bending over backwards to defend my image anymore.”

 

***

 

Thirty-Two Years Earlier

 

 

“Master Tenma,” recited the Tenma family chauffeur robot. “We have arrived at the lakeside.”

“Just a minute--!” Umataro grunted from the back seat, hurriedly unfastening the screws holding a clear plastic orb together. It popped open in his lap, and with a grin, he turned to the small robot bear in the seat beside him.

“Bear, climb on in! I tested this with some cotton in the pool at home. You'll be able to swim with me!”

“And it didn't leak at all?” Micro Bear chirped from its seat.

“It's airtight! You'll be totally safe!” Umataro held out the plastic capsule. “I wouldn't take you to the cottage if you couldn't really hang out!”

Soon enough, the trunks-clad Umataro ran out of the limousine, the plastic orb under his arm, waving to the family up ahead at the shore. Micro Bear excitedly chanted, “Beach! Beach!” inside the buoyancy orb, as Umataro ran straight up and off the dock and into the lake. Cool blue engulfed the two, and Umataro opened his eyes when he submerged; bubbles swirled around him, with the green of short pondweed and rocks deep below him. He relaxed, and let his body resurface with the water flow.

Micro Bear greeted him at the surface. “This is a wonderful place!”

“I know!” Umataro gasped around lake water. “You should see Uncle Hideyuki's boat!”

The two swam through pure aquamarine. Bear bobbled around contentedly at the surface, staring down at the freshwater floor below its protective orb. Umataro could feel the curls of his hair unfurl in the sea water, the ones that he had hotcombed into straightness days before out of shame. But now, he felt fluid and lightweight in crystalline waves.

Umataro barely took notice of his  visiting relatives . He and Bear spent some time trying to study the lake floor, with Umataro bobbing up only for air or to declare he saw a magnificently-sized fish. He envied Bear's strength; Umataro knew he shouldn't expect his human body to withstand almost two full hours of swimming, but it certainly was easy to compare oneself when one's best friend had a 16 hour battery charge.

“I'm...” Umataro gasped for air, leading Bear back to shore. “...I'm going to get a lemonade. Let's go and visit the cousins.”

“Sure thing!” chirped Bear, sitting in its bubble as the waves carried its orb back to shore. When they reached shallow water, Umataro picked up Bear's orb with one arm, carrying it close to his chest. He couldn't afford not to assume one of the cousins would try and throw Bear.

Mother and Father were off discussing their new line of AI-implemented farming machinery with Uncle Hideyuki and some friends. Umataro would've loved to listen in, but he'd been warned that some sort of business proposition was going to happen at this lakeside party. He had been delegated to the children's group. Umataro and Bear drew closer to a rock-carved picnic table, where two of his teenaged cousins were in the middle of a travel hologram chess game.

One of the girls sensed movement nearby, and she looked up to see him, letting out a disgusted, “Oh my  _god_ .”

Umataro narrowed his eyes. “...What?”

“It's been three summers and you still have that stupid bear?!” she hooted back, slapping her hands on the tabletop. Bear shook its head, calm.

“I am not stupid,” Bear said. “I have been programmed to have an IQ of 300. Feel free to ask me a question!”

The girl turned away, disgusted, in a flurry of black curls. Three of the younger kids could hear their sister yelling, ran over to the table with their sights set on Bear's orb. Umataro yelped and hoisted the orb over his head before their cloying hands could attempt a grasp.

“Get lost, Naoki!” he yelled down at the nearest child. “This is my robot!”

The boy squealed back, “No, it's a toy!”

“No, it's a conscious robot! Get lost!” 

The boy's face contorted into vicious forced agony, his eyes narrowed as if tears were coming. He stomped his foot and howled, “I'm gonna tell my mother you're not sharing!”

“You try that! Aunt Sumi already knows about Bear!”

As the three children ran off in the direction of adults, Umataro turned to give a sneer at the girls at the table. One of them spat out, “You're seventeen and you're playing with teddies.”

“At least I can afford a _physical_ chess set,” he smirked, turning back to the lake shore. One of the girls cursed after him, but he couldn't really hear it. Bear hadn't been too rattled by the moment.

“I would love to see your uncle's boat,” Bear chirped.

“We'll be going on it in an hour or so,” Umataro replied, fighting off a heaviness in his voice. “Let's go get a lemonade first.”

It should've been a fun day. It had been something the two had been discussing for weeks. But as Umataro sat on the boat, with a talking teddy bear in an orb balanced among his gangly teenaged limbs, the stares of relatives brought him far less pride for his creation than it had years before.

“I can't wait to see what _real_ robots you'll cook up,” Uncle Hideyuki had said at dinner. Aunt Mimiko nodded warmly. Umataro only looked over at Bear, whom had been seated on a stool beside him at the enormous dinner table. Bear's validity was crumbling among Umataro's relatives and the robot couldn't even notice.

In that moment, Umataro both pitied and loathed his bear's limited AI.

That night, Umataro and Bear had stayed up late, reading an issue of Modern Engineering Magazine. Bear pointed out all the new colours of matte paint that it liked. Umataro nodded, smiling, engaging it as much as he could. A knot had been forming in his stomach over the last two hours.

“I'm completely exhausted,” Umataro breathed, shutting the magazine. “I think we should get some rest.”

The moonlight beamed in through the bay window; it filled their little guest room with a blue glow that could have been lovely on any other night, but just made Umataro feel even more jarred. Bear walked on toddling little legs up to Umataro's pillow, looking for a soft place to settle. It soon curled up right beside Umataro's head.

“What a good day, my friend!” Bear said. “I will settle into sleep mode again.”

“Okay,” Umataro replied, the smile on his face clashing horribly with the cold chills in his arms. “Good night.”

“Good night!” Bear finally said, resin eyelids sliding shut over black lenses. The whir of its internal machinery came to a halt, making the room finally and completely silent.

_Now_ .

With one shaky hand, Umataro reached over, twisted the sleeping bear's ear to the side. His fingers just barely found Bear's nose and he pressed into it thrice. The faint pulse in Bear's head was completely gone now. Umataro's hand dropped limply, his fingers twitching with each thump of his heart.

His eyes couldn't move from Bear's stilled face. It was now in reset mode. All energy functions had stopped, its memory wiped, all interests and activities uninstalled. It was effectively dead; a small metal corpse.

Horror set in. Umataro sat up with a gasp, grabbing Bear with one hand like a dead hamster, and yanking open the bedside table drawer with his other hand. He shoved Bear in and slammed the drawer shut. He was free, technically; nobody would make fun of him for the rest of the weekend, but he didn't feel free. He could either restore Bear to the most recent backup on his laptop, and act like nothing had happened that night, or he could lie to everyone that Bear was just out for repairs. Umataro fought between these two options back and forth until he was so exhausted that he could only sleep.

The weekend ended with Bear still deep in the guest room drawer. It was probably still there.


End file.
